Greensleeves

Alas my love you do me wrong To cast me off discourteously For I have loved you so long Delighting in your company. Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight. Greensleeves was my heart of gold And who but my lady Greensleeves? Alas my love that you should own A heart of wanton vanity So I must laddie think alone Upon your insincerity. A sorrowful 16th-century love ballad reimagined as a yuletide hymn: heavy bolts of oakmoss-colored velvet, a heart of gold weeping sticky tears of balsam. Artwork by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, 1863