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misbehavingmaiar:

“The Unquiet Grave” —Helium Vola

Cold blows the wind to my true-love, 

and gently drops the rain.

I never had but one sweetheart, and in greenwood she lies slain

and in greenwood she lies slain.

I’ll do as much for my sweet heart

as any young man may.

I’ll sit and mourn all on her grave

for twelve month and a day.

When the twelve month and a day was passed,

the ghost began to speak:

“Why sitest here all on my grave, and will not let me sleep?”

There’s one thing that I want, sweetheart,

there’s one thing that I crave;

and that is a kiss from your lily-white lips,

then I’ll go from your grave.

“My breast is cold as the clay,

my breath smells earthly strong;

and if you kiss my cold-clay lips,

your days they won’t be long.”

“Go fetch me water from the desert

and blood from out of a stone.

Go fetch me milk from a fair maid’s breast

that a young man never has known.”

Oh down on yonder grove, sweetheart,

where you and I would walk,

the first flower that e’er I saw

was withered to a stalk.

The stalk is withered and dry, sweetheart,

and the flower will never return—

Not since I lost my own sweetheart;

What can I do but mourn?

When shall we meet again, sweetheart,

when shall we meet again?

“When the oaken leaves that fall from the trees,

grow green, and spring up again.”

Happy Halloween, everyone!