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The Unquiet Grave

Anonymous
I

'The wind doth blow today, my love,  
  And a few small drops of rain;  
I never had but one true-love;  
  In cold grave she was lain.  
  
II

'I'll do as much for my true-love 
  As any young man may;  
I'll sit and mourn all at her grave  
  For a twelvemonth and a day.'  
  
III

The twelvemonth and a day being up,  
  The dead began to speak:
'Oh who sits weeping on my grave,  
  And will not let me sleep?'—  
  
IV

''Tis I, my love, sits on your grave,  
  And will not let you sleep;  
For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips,
  And that is all I seek.'—  
  
V

'You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips;  
  But my breath smells earthy strong;  
If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips,  
  Your time will not be long.
  
VI

''Tis down in yonder garden green,  
  Love, where we used to walk,  
The finest flower that ere was seen  
  Is wither'd to a stalk.  
  
VII

'The stalk is wither'd dry, my love,
  So will our hearts decay;  
So make yourself content, my love,  
  Till God calls you away.'

This poem is in the public domain.

This poem is in the public domain.

Anonymous

by this poet

poem
Adam lay ibounden,
     Bounden in a bond;
Four thousand winter
     Thoght he not too long;
And all was for an appil,
     An appil that he tok,
As clerkes finden
     Wreten in here book.
Ne hadde the appil take ben,
     The appil taken ben,
Ne hadde never our lady
     A ben hevene quene.
Blessed be the time
poem
To every thing there is a season,
and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn,
poem
   "Oh where ha'e ye been, Lord Randall my son?
O where ha'e ye been, my handsome young man?"
     "I ha'e been to the wild wood: mother, make my bed soon,
     For I’m weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."

   "Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randall my son?
Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man