Cold blows the wind to my true love,nAnd gently drops the rain.nI've never had but one true love,nAnd in green-wood he lies slain.nnI'll do as much for my true love,nAs any young girl may,nI'll sit and mourn all on his grave,nFor twelve months and a day.nnAnd when twelve months and a day was passed,nThe ghost did rise and speak,nwhy sittest thou all on my gravenAnd will no let me sleep?nnGo fetch me water from the desert,nAnd blood from out the stone,nGo fetch me milk from a fair maid's breastnThat young man never has known.nnMy breast is cold as clay,nMy breath is earthly strong,nAnd if you kiss my cold clay lips,nYou days they won't be long.nnHow oft on yonder grave, sweetheart,nWhere we were want to walk,nThe fairest flower that e'er I sawnHas withered to a stalk.nnwhen will we meet again, sweetheart,nWhen will we meet again?nwhen the autumn leaves that fall from the treesnAre green and spring up again.