‘Oh, weep not, lady fair,’ said she,
‘You shall win back,’ she said,
‘For you shall take this draught from me
Will make you lie for dead.’
‘Come in and sup, fair lady,’ they said,
‘Come busk ye and be bright;
It is with three bold captains
That ye must be this night.’
When they had eaten well and drunk,
She fell down like one slain:
‘Now, out and alas! for my bonny may
Shall live no more again.’
‘Within her father’s garden stead
There are three white lilies;
With her body to the lily bed,
With her soul to Paradise.’
They bore her to her father’s house,
They bore her all the three,
They laid her in her father’s close,
Beneath the white-rose tree.
She had not lain a day, a day,
A day but barely three,
When the may awakes, ‘Oh, open, father,
Oh, open the door for me.
‘’Tis I have lain for dead, father,
Have lain the long days three,
That I might maiden come again
To my mother and to thee.’
THE BRIDGE OF DEATH.
‘The dance is on the Bridge of Death
And who will dance with me?’
‘There’s never a man of living men
Will dare to dance with thee.’
Now Margaret’s gone within her bower
Put ashes in her hair,
And sackcloth on her bonny breast,
And on her shoulders bare.