Historical Folk Lyrics
"The Lover's Ghost"

She said unto her mamma, she said unto her dada:
There's something the matter with me,
There's something the matter and I don't know what it is,
And I'm weary from lying alone.

John he came there at the very hour appointed,
He tapped at the window so gay.
This fair maid arose and she hurried on her clothes
And let her true love John in.

She took him by the hand and on the bed she laid him,
Felt he was colder than clay.
If I had my wish and my wish it would be so,
This long night would never be morn.

Crow up, crow up, my little bird,
And don't crow before it is day,
And your cage shall be made of the glittering gold, she said,
And your doors of the silver so gay.

Where is your soft bed of down, my love,
And where is your white Holland sheet,
And where is the fair maid that watches on you
While you are taking your long silent sleep.

The sand is my soft bed of down, my love,
The sea is my white Holland sheet,
And long hungry worms will feed off of me
While I'm taking my long silent sleep.

O when will I see you, my love, she cries,
And when will I see you again?
When the little fishes fly and the seas they do run dry
And the hard rocks they melt with the sun.

Another Version

Johnny is the young man that lately promised he'd marry me,
But I am afeard that he is ...
There's something else bewailed him or else he got a charm
Or always with some fair one he's gone.

But John he come back at the very hour he appointed,
Tappen to her window so low.
The fair one then arose and hurried on her clothes
And welcomed her true love young John.

She got him by the hand and 'twas through the room she ledded him,
She felt he was colder than clay.
She says: My dearest dear, if l only had my wish,
This long night would never be day.

"Where is your soft bed of down, my love", she cries,
"Or where is your white Holland sheet,
Or where is the maiden sweet that used to wait on you
Every night in your long silent sleep?"

"The sand is my soft bed of down", my love, he cries,
"And the waves is my white Holland sheet,
And the rocks and the worms is my jury just [sic] companion,
Every night I sleep in the deep."

"When will I see you again, my love", she cries,
"Or when will I see you any more?
When the little fishes fly and the seas will run dry
And the hard rocks will melt with the sun."

"The birds they must be false and very false", she cries,
"They crow two hours too soon;
Their combs must be made of the very beads of gold
And their wings of the silver so fine."