The English and Scottish Popular Ballads/Part 3/Chapter 78

by Francis James Child

 

---

 

A

1

‘THE wind doth blow today, my love,

And a few small drops of rain;

I never had but one true-love,

In cold grave she was lain.

2

‘I’ll do as much for my true-love

As any young man may;

I’ll sit and mourn all at her grave

For a twelvemonth and a day.’

3

The twelvemonth and a day being up,

The dead began to speak:

‘Oh who sits weeping on my grave,

And will not let me sleep?’

4

‘Tis I, my love, sits on your grave,

And will not let you sleep;

For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips,

And that is all I seek.’

5

‘You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips;

But my breath smells earthy strong;

If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips,

Your time will not be long.

6

‘Tis down in yonder garden green,

Love, where we used to walk,

The finest flower that ere was seen

Is withered to a stalk.

7

‘The stalk is withered dry, my love,

So will our hearts decay;

So make yourself content, my love,

Till God calls you away.’

 

---

 

B

‘HOW cold the wind do blow, dear love,

And see the drops of rain!

I never had but one true-love,

In the green wood he was slain.

‘I would do as much for my own true-love

As in my power doth lay;

I would sit and mourn all on his grave

For a twelvemonth and a day.’

A twelvemonth and a day being past,

His ghost did rise and speak:

‘What makes you mourn all on my grave?

For you will not let me sleep.’

‘It is not your gold I want, dear love,

Nor yet your wealth I crave;

But one kiss from your lily-white lips

Is all I wish to have.

‘Your lips are cold as clay, dear love,

Your breath doth smell so strong;’

‘I am afraid, my pretty, pretty maid,

Your time will not be long.’

 

---

 

C

‘COLD blows the wind oer my true-love,

Cold blow the drops of rain;

I never, never had but one sweetheart,

In the greenwood he was slain.

‘I did as much for my true-love

As ever did any maid;

‘One kiss from your lily-cold lips, true-love,

One kiss is all I pray,

And I’ll sit and weep all over your grave

For a twelvemonth and a day.’

‘My cheek is as cold as the clay, true-love,

My breath is earthy and strong;

And if I should kiss your lips, true-love,

Your life would not be long.’

 

---

 

D

‘PROUD BOREAS makes a hideous noise,

Loud roars the fatal fleed;

I loved never a love but one,

In church-yard she lies dead.

‘But I will do for my love’s sake

What other young men may;

I’ll sit and mourn upon her grave,

A twelvemonth and a day.’

A twelvemonth and a day being past,

The ghost began to speak:

‘Why sit ye here upon my grave,

And will not let me sleep?’

‘One kiss of your lily-white lips

Is all that I do crave;

And one kiss of your lily-white lips

Is all that I would have.’

‘Your breath is as the roses sweet,

Mine as the sulphur strong;

If you get one kiss of my lips,

Your days would not be long.

‘Mind not ye the day, Willie,

Sin you and I did walk?

The firstand flower that we did pu

Was witherd on the stalk.’

‘Flowers will fade and die, my dear,

Aye as the tears will turn;

And since I’ve lost my own sweet-heart,

I’ll never cease but mourn.’

‘Lament nae mair for me, my love,

The powers we must obey;

But hoist up one sail to the wind,

Your ship must sail away.’