"I am no love for you, Margaret,
You are no love for me.
Before to-morrow at eight of the clock,
A rich wedding you shall see."
Fair Margaret sat in her bower-window
Combing her yellow hair;
There she espied sweet William and his bride,
As they were a-riding near.
Down she laid her ivory comb,
And up she bound her hair;
She went away out of her bower,
And never returnéd there.
When day was gone and night was come,
And all men fast asleep,
There came the spirit of fair Marg'ret,
And stood at William's feet.
"Are you awake, sweet William?" she said,
"Or, William, are you asleep?
God give you joy of your gay bride-bed,
And me of my winding sheet."
When day was come and night was gone,
And all men waked in from sleep,
Sweet William to his ladye said,—
"Alas I have cause to weep.
"I dreamt a dream, my dear ladye,—
Such dreams are never good,—
I dreamt my bower was full of red swine,
And the walls ran down with blood."
He called up his merrymen all,
By one, by two, and by three;
Saying, "I'll away to fair Margaret's bower,
By the leave of my ladye."
And when he came to fair Margaret's bower,
He knocked at the ring;
And who so ready as her seven brethren,
To let sweet William in.
He turned down the covering-sheet,
To see the face of the dead;
"Methinks she looks all pale and wan;
She hath lost her cherry red.