The English and Scottish Popular Ballads Edited by Francis James Child. |
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 | The English and Scottish Popular Ballads |  |
THE UNQUIET GRAVE—H
[_]
a. Sent Rev. S. Baring-Gould by Mrs Gibbons, daughter of the late Sir W. L. Trelawney, as she remembered it sung by her nurse, Elizabeth Doidge, a woman of the neighborhood of Brentor, about 1828. b. Obtained by the same from John Woodrich, blacksmith, parish of Thrustleton, as heard from his grandmother about 1848. c. By the same, from Anne Roberts, Scobbeter.
1
‘Cold blows the wind tonight, sweet-heart,Cold are the drops of rain;
The very first love that ever I had
In greenwood he was slain.
2
‘I'll do as much for my sweet-heartAs any young woman may;
I'll sit and mourn on his grave-side
A twelve-month and a day.’
3
A twelve-month and a day being up,The ghost began to speak:
‘Why sit you here by my grave-side
And will not let me sleep?
4
‘What is it that you want of me,Or what of me would have?’
‘A kiss from off your lily-white lips,
And that is all I crave!’
5
‘Cold are my lips in death, sweet-heart,My breath is earthy strong;
To gain a kiss of my cold lips,
Your time would not be long.
6
‘If you were not my own sweet-heart,As now I know you be,
I'd tear you as the withered leaves
That grew on yonder tree.’
7
‘O don't you mind the garden, love,Where you and I did walk?
The fairest flower that blossomd there
Is withered on the stalk.
8
‘And now I've mourned upon his graveA twelvemonth and a day,
We'll set our sails before the wind
And so we'll sail away.’
b.
1
Cold blows the wind to-night, my love,Cold are the drops of rain;
The very first love that ever I had
In greenwood he was slain.
2
‘I'll do as much for my true-loveAs any young woman may;
I'll sit and mourn upon his grave
A twelve-month and a day.’
3
When a twelve-month and a day were up,His body straight arose:
‘What brings you weeping oer my grave
That I get no repose?’
4
‘O think upon the garden, love,Where you and I did walk;
The fairest flower that blossomd there
Is withered on the stalk.
5
‘The stalk will bear no leaves, sweet-heart,The flower will neer return,
And my true-love is dead, is dead,
And I do naught but mourn.’
6
‘What is it that you want of meAnd will not let me sleep?
Your salten tears they trickle down
And wet my winding-sheet.’
7
‘What is it that I want of thee,O what of thee in grave?
A kiss from off your lily-white lips,
And that is all I crave.’
8
‘Cold are my lips in death, sweet-heart,My breath is earthy strong;
If you do touch my clay-cold lips,
Your time will not be long.’
9
‘Cold though your lips in death, sweet-heart,One kiss is all I crave;
I care not, if I kiss but thee,
That I should share thy grave.’
10
‘Go fetch me a light from dungeon deep,Wring water from a stone,
And likewise milk from a maiden's breast
That never maid hath none. (Read babe had.)
11
‘Now if you were not true in word,As now I know you be,
I'd tear you as the withered leaves
Are torn from off the tree.’
| The English and Scottish Popular Ballads | |