The wind doth blow today, my love And a few small drops of rain I never had but one true-love In cold grave she was lain 
I’ll do as much for my true-love As any young man ever may I’ll sit and mourn all at her grave For a twelvemonth and a day 
The twelvemonth and a day being up The dead began to speak Oh who sits weeping on my grave And will not let me sleep 
Tis I, my love, sits on your grave And will not let you sleep For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips And that is all I seek 
You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips But my breath smells earthy strong If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips Your time will not be long 
Tis down in yonder garden green Love, where we used to walk The finest flower that ere was seen Is withered to a stalk 
The stalk is withered dry, my love So will our hearts decay So make yourself content, my love Till God calls you away 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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