CXII
SWEET WILLIAM'S GHOST
There came a ghost to Margaret's door,
With many a grievous groan,
And aye he tirled at the pin,
But answer made she none.
'Is that my father Philip,
Or is't my brother John?
Or is't my true love Willy,
From Scotland new come home?'
''Tis not thy father Philip,
Nor yet thy brother John;
But 'tis thy true love Willy,
From Scotland new come home.
'O sweet Margaret, O dear Margaret,
I pray thee speak to me:
Give me my faith and troth, Margaret,
As I gave it to thee.'
'Thy faith and troth thou'lt never get,
Nor yet wilt thou me win,
Till that thou come within my bower
And kiss my cheek and chin.'
'If I should come within thy bower,
I am no earthly man:
And should I kiss thy rosy lips
Thy days would not be lang.
'O sweet Margaret, O dear Margaret,
I pray thee speak to me:
Give me my faith and troth, Margaret,
As I gave it to thee.'
'Thy faith and troth thou'lt never get,
Nor yet wilt thou me win,
Till you take me to yon kirk-yard,
And wed me with a ring.'