| Lady Margaret
|
| Sweet William rose one morning bright
|
| And dressed himself in blue
|
| Come tell to me the long lost love
|
| Between Lady Margaret and you
|
| I know no harm of Lady Margaret, said he And I hope she knows none of me But tomorrow morning before eight o’clock
|
| Lady Margaret my bride shall be As Lady Margaret was in her chamber high
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| A-combing up her hair
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| She spied sweet William and his bride
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| As they to the church drew near
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| She threw down her ivory comb
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| And tossed back her hair
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| And from the room a fair lady came
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| That was seen in there no more
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| The day being gone and the night being come
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| When most men were asleep
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| Sweet William spied Lady Margaret’s ghost
|
| A-standing at his bed feet
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| How do you like your bed? |
| she said
|
| And how do you like your sheet?
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| And how do you like the fair lady
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| That lies in your arms asleep?
|
| Very well do I like my bed, said he Very well do I like my sheet
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| But better do I like the fair lady
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| That is standing at my bed feet
|
| The night being gone and the day being come
|
| When most men were awake
|
| Sweet William said he was troubled in his head
|
| From a dream he had last night
|
| He called his weary waiting maids
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| By one, by two, by three
|
| And last of all, with his bride’s consent
|
| Lady Margaret he went to see
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| He went unto the parlor door
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| He knocked until he made things ring
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| But none was so ready as her own dear brother
|
| To arise and let him in Is Lady Margaret in the parlor? |
| said he Or is she in the hall
|
| Or is she in her chamber high
|
| Among the gay ladies all?
|
| Lady Margaret is not in the parlor, said he She is neither in the hall
|
| She is in her coffin
|
| And a-lying by the wall
|
| Tear down, tear down, those milk white sheets
|
| They are made of silk so fine
|
| That I may kiss Lady Margaret’s cheek
|
| For ofttimes she has kissed mine
|
| The first that he kissed was her rosy cheek
|
| The next was her dimpled chin
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| The last of all was her clay-cold lips
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| That pierced his heart within
|
| Tear down, tear down those milk white sheets
|
| They are made of silk so fine
|
| Today they hang around Lady Margaret’s corpse
|
| And tomorrow they will hang around mine
|
| Lady Margaret died of pure, pure love
|
| Sweet William died of sorrow
|
| They are buried in one burying ground
|
| Both side and side together
|
| Out of her grave grew a red rose
|
| And out of his a briar
|
| They grew in a twining true lover’s knot
|
| The rose and the green briar
|
| Child #74
|
| Printed in Folksongs of the South by Cox
|
| versions recorded by Hedy West, Buffy Ste. |
| Marie, Sally Rogers
|
| filename[ LADYMARG
|
| SF
|
| ===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY=== |