The Unquiet Grave
The wind doth blow today my love
A few small drops of rain,
Never have I had but one true love
In cold clay she is laid.
I'll do as much for my true love
As any young man may
Ill sit and mourn all on her grave
A twelve-month and a day.
The twelve-month and the day being gone
A voice spoke from the deep,
Who is it sits all on my grave
And will not let me sleep.
'Tis I, 'tis I, thine own true love
Who sits upon your grave
For I crave on kiss from your sweet lips
And that is all I seek
You crave one kiss from my clay cold lips
But my breath is earthly strong,
Had you one kiss from my clay cold lips
Your time would not be long.
My time be long, my time be short
Tomorrow or today
May God in Heaven have all my soul
But I'll kiss your lips of clay
See down in younder garden green
Love where we used to walk
The sweetest flower that ever grew
Is withered to the stalk.
The stalk is withered dry my love
So will our hearts decay
So make yourself content my love
Till death calls you away.