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

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.’

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