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?      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      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