Cold blows the wind o'er my true love
Cold blows the drops of rain;
I never, never had but one true love,
And in Camvile he was slain.
I'll do as much for my true love
As any young girl may,
I'll sit and weep down by his grave
For twelve months and a day.
But when twelve months were come and gone,
This young man he arose,
"What makes you weep down by my grave?
I can't take my repose."
"One kiss, one kiss of your lily-white lips,
One kiss is all I crave;
One kiss, one kiss of your lily-white lips
And return back to your grave."
"My lips they are as cold as clay
My breath is heavy and strong;
If thou wast to kiss my lily-white lips,
Thy days would not be long!"
"O don't you remember the garden grove,
Where we was used to walk?
Pluck the finest flower of them all
'Twill wither to a stalk."
"Go fetch me a nut from a dungeon keep
And water from a stone,
And white milk froma maiden's breast
That babe bare never none."
"Go dig me a grave both wide, and deep,
(As quickey as you may)
I will lie down in it and take one sleep
For a twelve month and a day."
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Source: Lucy Broadwood and J A Fuller Maitland. 1893, English County Songs, Leadenhall Press, London
From Shropshire Folk Lore
Lucy Broadwood wrote:
Compare this with the tune "By chance it was I met my love" in Songs of the West. These, as well as "Lazarus", "The Thresher" are possibly all versions of the same original. The tune "Gilderoy" (see Ritson's Scottish Songs, published in D'Urfey's Pills to purge Melancholy, is probably another version, more resembling "The Thresher"
Roud: 51 (Search Roud index at VWML) Take Six
Related Songs: The Unquiet Grave [Cold Blows the Wind] (thematic)