As May Marg'ret sat in her bouerie,
In her bouer all alone,
At the very parting o' midnicht,
She heard a mournfu' moan.
"O is it my father, O is it my mother,5
Or is it my brother John?
Or is it sweet William, my ain true love,
To Scotland new come home?"
"It is na your father, it is na your mother,
It is na your brother John;10
But it is sweet William, your ain true love,
To Scotland new come home."
"Hae ye brought me onie fine things,
Onie new thing for to wear?
Or hae ye brought me a braid o' lace,15
To snood up my gowden hair?"
"I've brought ye na fine things at all,
Nor onie new thing to wear,
Nor hae I brought ye a braid of lace,
To snood up your gowden hair.20
"But Margaret, dear Margaret,
I pray ye speak to me;
O gie me back my faith and troth,
As dear as I gied it thee!"
"Your faith and troth ye sanna get,25
Nor will I wi' ye twin,
Till ye come within my bower,
And kiss me, cheek and chin."
"O Margaret, dear Margaret,
I pray ye speak to me;30
O gie me back my faith and troth,
As dear as I gied it thee."
"Your faith and troth ye sanna get,
Nor will I wi' ye twin,
Till ye tak me to yonder kirk,35
And wed me wi' a ring."