(traditional ballad circa 1400)
The wind doth howl today m'love
And a winter's worth of rain
I never had but one true love
In cold grave she was lain
Oh I adored my sweetest love
As any young man may
So I'll sit and weep upon her grave
For twelve-month and a day
One true love is eternity for two
Three four nevermore
Will I see my love true
The twelve-month and a day foregone
The dead began to speak |