Cold blows the wind upon my true love Soft falls the gentle rain I never had but one true love And in Greenwood she lies slain I'd lose much for my true love As any young man may I'll sit and I'll mourn all on your grave For twelve months and a day When the twelfth month and a day had pa**ed The ghost began to speak "Who is it that sits all on my grave And will not let me sleep?" "'Tis I, 'tis I, thine own true love That sits all on your grave I ask of one kiss from your sweet lips And that is all that I crave" "My lips, they are as clay, my love My breath is earthy strong And if you should kiss my clay-cold lips Your time, 'twould not be long" "Look down in the yonder garden fair Love, where we used to walk The fairest flower that ever bloomed Has withered and too the stalk" "The stalk, it has withered and dried, my love So will our hearts decay So make yourself content, my love 'Til d**h calls you away"