Cold blows the wind to my true love
And gently drops the rain
I've never had but one true love
And in green-wood he lies slain
I'll do as much for my true love
As any young girl may
I'll sit and mourn all on his grave
For a twelve months and a day
And when twelve months and a day was passed
The ghost did rise and speak
Why sittest thou all on my grave
And will no let me sleep?
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Go fetch me water from the desert
And blood from out the stone
Go fetch me milk from a fair maid's breast
That young man never has known
How oft on yonder grave, sweetheart
Where we were want to walk
The fairest flower that e'er I saw
Has withered to a stalk
A stalk has withered and dead, sweetheart
The flower will never return
And since I've lost my own true love
What can I do but yearn
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When will we meet again, sweetheart
When will we meet again?
When the autumn leaves that fall from the trees
Are green and spring up again
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