I AM STRETCHED ON YOUR GRAVE

I am stretched on your grave

And would lie there forever;

If your hands were in mine

I’d be sure we’d not sever.

My apple tree, my brightness,

’Tis time we were together

For I smell of the earth

And am stained by the weather.

When my family thinks

That I’m safe in my bed

From night until morning

I am stretched at your head,

Calling out to the air

With tears hot and wild

My grief for the girl

That I loved as a child.

Do you remember

The night we were lost

In the shade of the blackthorn

And the chill of the frost?

Thanks be to Jesus

We did what was right,

And your maidenhead still

Is your pillar of light.

The priests and the friars

Approach me in dread

Because I still love you

My love and you dead,

And would still be your shelter

From rain and from storm,

And with you in the cold grave

I cannot sleep warm.