Cold blows the wind to my true love and gentle drops of rain
I only had but one true love, in the green wood he lies slain
I'll do as much for my sweetheart as any young maid may
I'll sit and mourn all on his grave for twelve months and one day
When twelve months and one day was passed the ghost began to speak
Why sittest here all on my grave and you will not let me sleep
O there's one thing that I want sweetheart, there's one thing that I crave
And that is a kiss from your lily white lips and I'll go from your grave
Well my lips they are as cold as the clay and my breath smells earthly strong
And if you kiss my cold clay lips your days they wont be long
Go fetch me water form the desert and blood from out of a stone
And fetch me the milk from a fair maids breast that a young man has never known
Twas down in yonder garden where you and I did walk
The finest flower that I ever saw to as stalk
The stock is withered and dry sweetheart and the flower will never return
And since I lost my own true love what can I do but mourn
When shall we meet again sweetheart when shall we meet again
And when the oaken leaves that fall from the trees are green with spring up again
I only had but one true love, in the green wood he lies slain