And when he came to fair Marg'ret's bower,
He knocked at the ring;
And who so ready as her seven brethrèn
To let sweet William in.
Then he turned up the covering-sheet, 45
Pray let me see the dead;
Methinks she looks all pale and wan,
She hath lost her cherry red.
I'll do more for thee, Margarèt,
Than any of thy kin; 50
For I will kiss thy pale wan lips,
Though a smile I cannot win.
With that bespake the seven brethrèn,
Making most piteous mone:
You may go kiss your jolly brown bride, 55
And let our sister alone.
If I do kiss my jolly brown bride,
I do but what is right;
I neer made a vow to yonder poor corpse
By day, nor yet by night. 60
Deal on, deal on, my merry men all,
Deal on your cake and your wine[320]:
For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day,
Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine.
Fair Margaret dyed to-day, to-day, 65
Sweet William dyed the morrow:
Fair Margaret dyed for pure true love,
Sweet William dyed for sorrow.
Margaret was buryed in the lower chancèl,
And William in the higher: 70
Out of her brest there sprang a rose,
And out of his a briar.
They grew till they grew unto the church-top,
And then they could grow no higher;
And there they tyed in a true lovers knot, 75
Which made all the people admire.
Then came the clerk of the parìsh,
As you the truth shall hear,
And by misfortune cut them down,
Or they had now been there. 80