"O, who sits weeping on my grave
And will not let me sleep?"
"'T is 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."
"You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips,
But your breath smells earthly strong;
If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips
Your time will not be long."