P. 236 b. Add: Waldau's Böhmische Granaten, II, 121, No
176.
236 f., III, 512 f. The Rev. S. Baring-Gould has recovered
several copies of 'The Unquiet Grave' in the West Country. It
will be observed that the variations in this ballad do not take a
wide range. The verses are not always sung in the same order;
there is not story enough to keep them in place. Mr. Baring-Gould
informs me that there is a Devon popular tale which is very
similar (possibly a prose version of the ballad). In this, a
bramble-leaf comes between the lips of the maiden and her dead
lover, and her life is saved thereby. This tale is utilized in
the ballad as printed in Songs of the West, No 6, 'Cold blows the
wind, sweetheart!'
| 1 |
'Cold blows the wind tonight, sweet-heart,
Cold are the drops of rain;
The very first love that ever I had
In greenwood he was slain. |
| 2 |
'I'll do as much for my sweet-heart
As any young woman may;
I'll sit and mourn on his grave-side
A twelve-month and a day.' |
| 3 |
A twelve-month and a day being up,
The ghost began to speak:
'Why sit you here by my grave-side
And will not let me sleep? |
| 4 |
'What is it that you want of me,
Or what of me would have?'
'A kiss from off your lily-white lips,
And that is all I crave!' |
| 5 |
'Cold are my lips in death, sweet-heart,
My breath is earthy strong;
To gain a kiss of my cold lips,
Your tune would not be long. |
| 6 |
'If you were not my own sweet-heart,
As now I know you be,
I'd tear you as the withered leaves
That grew on yonder tree.'
|
| 7 |
'O don't you mind the garden, love,
Where you and I did walk?
The fairest flower that blossomd there
Is withered on the stalk. |
| |
* * * |
| 8 |
'And now I've mourned upon his grave
A twelvemonth and a day,
We'll set our sails before the wind
And so we'll sail away.' |
| b. 1 |
Cold blows the wind to-night, my lore,
Cold are the drops of rain;
The very first love that ever I had
In greenwood he was slain. |
| 2 |
'I'll do as much for my true-love
As any young woman may;
I'll sit and mourn upon his grave
A twelve-month and a day.'
|
| 3 |
When a twelve-month and a day were up,
His body straight arose:
'What brings you weeping oer my grave
That I get no repose?' |
| 4 |
'O think upon the garden, love,
Where you and I did walk;
The fairest flower that blossomd there
Is withered on the stalk.
|
| 5 |
'The stalk will bear no leaves, sweet-heart,
The flower will neer return,
And my true-love is dead, is dead,
And I do naught but mourn.'
|
| 6 |
'What is it that you want of me
And will not let me sleep?
Your salten tears they trickle down
And wet my winding-sheet.' |
| 7 |
'What is it that I want of thee,
O what of thee in grave?
A kiss from off your lily-white lips,
And that is all I crave.' |
| 8 |
'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.' |
| 9 |
'Cold though your lips in death, sweet-heart,
One kiss is all I crave;
I care not, if I kiss but thee,
That I should share thy grave.' |
| 10 |
'Go fetch me a light from dungeon deep,
Wring water from a stone,
And likewise milk from a maiden's breast
That never maid hath none. (Read babe had.) |
| |
* * * |
| 11 |
'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.' |
'Charles Graeme,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland,
I, 89, Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 624, begins with stanzas which
belong to this ballad. What follows after the third, or just
possibly the sixth, stanza reads as if some contributor had been
diverting himself with an imposition on the editor's simplicity.
Buchan himself remarks in a note, p. 299: "There seems to be a
very great inconsistency manifested throughout the whole of this
ballad in the lady's behavior towards the ghost of her departed
lover. Perhaps she wished to sit and sigh alone, undisturbed with
visits from the inhabitants of the grave." (Translated by
Gerhard, p. 63.)
| 1 |
'Cauld, cauld blaws the winter night,
Sair beats the heavy rain;
Young Charles Graeme's the lad I love,
In greenwood he lies slain. |
| 2 |
'But I will do for Charles Graeme
What other maidens may;
I'll sit and harp upon his grave
A twelvemonth and a day.' |
| 3 |
She harped a' the live-lang night,
The saut tears she did weep,
Till at the hour o one o'clock
His ghost began to peep. |
| 4 |
Pale and deadly was his cheek,
And pale, pale was his chin;
And how and hollow were his een,
No light appeard therein. |
| 5 |
Why sit ye here, ye maiden fair,
To mourn sae sair for me?'
'I am sae sick, and very love-sick,
Aye foot I cannot jee. |
| 6 |
'Sae well's I loved young Charles Graeme,
I kent he loved me;
My very heart's now like to break
For his sweet companie.' |
| 7 |
'Will ye hae an apple, lady,
And I will sheave it sma?'
'I am sae sick, and very love-sick,
I cannot eat at a'.' |
| 8 |
'Will ye hae the wine, lady,
And I will drain it sma?'
'I am sae sick, and very love-sick,
I cannot drink at a'. |
| 9 |
'See ye not my father's castle,
Well covered ower wi tin?
There's nane has sic an anxious wish
As I hae to be in.' |
| 10 |
'O hame, fair maid, ye'se quickly won,
But this request grant me;
When ye are safe in downbed laid,
That I may sleep wi thee.' |
| 11 |
'If hame again, sir, I could win,
I'll this request grant thee;
When I am safe in downbed laid,
This night ye'se sleep wi me.' |
| 12 |
Then he poud up a birken bow,
Pat it in her right han,
And they are to yon castle fair,
As fast as they coud gang. |
| 13 |
When they came to yon castle fair,
It was piled round about;
She slipped in and bolted the yetts,
Says, Ghaists may stand thereout. |
| 14 |
Then he vanishd frae her sight
In the twinkling o an ee;
Says, Let never ane a woman trust
Sae much as I've done thee. |
