the wind blew up the wind blew down   it brought some drops of rain   my own true love is only one   and she in the grave has lain   ah weep your tear and make a moan   as many a lover may   and sit and grieve upon her grave   for a season and a day   and when the season's past and gone   the fair young maid did say   what man is weeping on my grave   the night and most the day   tis I tis I my fair young love   that can no longer sleep   for want of a kiss of your darling lips   the day and night I seek   cold clay I am my lips cold clay   to kiss them would be wrong   for if you go against God's law   your time will not be long   see there see there the sun has set   the day has past for e'er   you cannot bring it back again   by means foul or fair   see there alas the garden green   where often we did walk   the fairest flower that e'er was seen   is withered at the stalk   our own hearts too will die my love   and like the stalk decay   so all that you can do my love   is to wait your dying day