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under the willow tree - mediæval bæbes lyrics

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here upon my true love’s grave
shall the barren flowers be laid;
not one holy saint to save
all the celness of a maid

black his hair as winter’s night
white he rode as summer snow
red his face as morning light;
cold he lies below

my love is dead
gone to his death*bed
under the willow*tree

come, with acorn*cup and th*rne
drain my hartys blood away;
life and all its good i scorn
dance by night, or feast by day
water*witches, crowned with reytes
bear me to your lethal tide
i die! i come! my true love waits;*
thus the damsel spake and died

my love is dead
gone to his death*bed
under the willow*tree

- mediaeval baebes lyrics

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