Lady Margaret & Sweet William Lyrics

Sweet William arose one May morning
And dressed himself in blue
"We want you to tell us something about
The long love between Lady Margaret and you."

"I know nothing of Lady Margaret's love,
I'm sure she don't love me,
But tomorrow morning at eight o'clock,
Lady Margaret my bride shall see."

Lady Margaret sat in her own hall door,
A-combing down her hair,
When she saw Sweet William come riding by,
Bringing his new bride home.

She first threw down her ivory comb,
Tied up her long yellow hair,
And out of the door when this lady came,
To never return anymore.

Now late that night when William was in bed
And most all man was asleep,
Lady Margaret's ghost came to Sweet William's side
And stood at his own bed feet.

Saying, "How do you like your snow-white pillow,
How do you like your sheet,
And how do you like the new-found bride
That's a-lying in your arms asleep?"

"Very well, very well do I like my pillow,
better do I like the sheet,
But the best one of all is this pretty little girl,
That's a-standing at my own bed feet."

So early next morning when William awoke
And most all man was at work,
Sweet William said he was troubled in his head
By the dream that he dreamt last night.

"Such dreams, such dreams I do not like,
Such dreams, they are no good
I dreamed that my hog was filled with wild swine,
Lady Margaret was drowning in blood."

So he called his comrades to his side,
"Number them one-two-three,
And the last one of them, go tell my bride,
Lady Margaret I've gone to see."

He rode till he came to Lady Margaret's hall,
Pulled along the build,
There's none so ready as Lady Margaret's brother
For to rise and let him in.

"Now is she in the garden?" he said
"Or is she in the hall?
Or is she in the other parlor
Among them ladies all?"

"She neither is in the garden," he said,
"Nor yet into the hall,
But yonder she lies in her cold coffin,
With her pale face turned to the wall."

Lady Margaret was buried in the old churchyard,
William lay a-nigh her,
And out of the grave grew a red red rose
And out of his a briar.

They grew and they grew in the old churchyard
Till they could grow no higher
They met and they twined in a true lover's knot,
The red rose around the briar.

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