Читать книгу Songs of the West - S. (Sabine) Baring-Gould - Страница 11

Table of Contents

C.J.S.

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1

"Cold blows the wind of night, sweet-heart,

Cold are the drops of rain;

The very first love that ever I had,

In green-wood he was slain.

2

"I'll do as much for my true-love

As any fair maiden may;

I'll sit and mourn upon his grave

A twelvemonth and a day."

3

A twelvemonth and a day being up,

The ghost began to speak;

"Why sit you here by my grave-side

From dusk till dawning break?"

4

"O think upon the garden, love,

Where you and I did walk.

The fairest flower that blossomed there

Is withered on its stalk."

5

"What is it that you want of me,

And will not let me sleep?

Your salten tears they trickle down

My winding sheet to steep."

6

"Oh I will now redeem the pledge

The pledge that once I gave;

A kiss from off thy lily white lips

Is all of you I crave."

7

"Cold are my lips in death, sweet-heart,

My breath is earthy strong.

If you do touch my clay-cold lips,

Your time will not be long."

8

Then through the mould he heaved his head,

And through the herbage green.

There fell a frosted bramble leaf,

It came their lips between.

9

"Now if you were not true in word,

As now I know you be,

I'd tear you as the withered leaves,

Are torn from off the tree.

10

"And well for you that bramble-leaf

Betwixt our lips was flung.

The living to the living hold,

Dead to the dead belong."