Sweet William and May Margaret
THERE came a ghost to Marg’ret’s door,With many a grievous groan;And aye he tirled at the pin,But answer made she none.
‘Is that my father Philip?Or is’t my brother John?Or is’t my true-love Willie,From Scotland new come home?’
‘’Tis not thy father Philip,Nor yet thy brother John,But ’tis thy true-love WillieFrom Scotland new come home.
‘O sweet Marg’ret, O dear Marg’ret!I pray thee speak to me;Give me my faith and troth, Marg’ret,As I gave it to thee.’
‘Thy faith and troth thou’s never get,Nor it will I thee lend,Till that thou come within my bowerAnd kiss me cheek and chin.’
‘If I should come within thy bower,I am no earthly man;And should I kiss thy ruby lipsThy days would not be lang.
‘O sweet Marg’ret! O dear Marg’ret,I pray thee speak to me;Give me my faith and troth, Marg’ret,As I gave it to thee.’
‘Thy faith and troth thou’s never get,Nor it will I thee lend,Till thou take me to yon kirk-yard,And wed me with a ring.’
‘My bones are buried in yon kirk-yardAfar beyond the sea;And it is but my spirit, Marg’ret,That’s now speaking to thee.’
She stretched out her lily-white handAnd for to do her best:‘Hae, there’s your faith and troth, Willie;God send your soul good rest.’
Now she has kilted her robe o’ greenA piece below her knee,And a’ the live-lang winter nightThe dead corp followed she.
‘Is there any room at your head, Willie,Or any room at your feet?Or any room at your side, Willie,Wherein that I may creep?’
‘There’s nae room at my head, Marg’ret,There’s nae room at my feet;There’s nae room at my side, Marg’ret,My coffin’s made so meet.’
Then up and crew the red red cock,And up and crew the grey;‘’Tis time, ’tis time, my dear Marg’ret,That you were gane awa.’