"Oh, say, is that my father?
Or is't my brother John?
Or is it my true love Willy,
From Scotland new come home?"
"'Tis not thy father, Marjorie,
Nor not thy brother John;
But 'tis thy true love Willy
From Scotland new come home.
"Oh Marjorie sweet! oh Marjorie dear!
For faith and charitie,
Will ye gie me back my faith and troth
That I gave once to thee?"
"Thy faith and troth thou gavest to me,
And again thou'lt never win,
Until thou come within my bower
And kiss me cheek and chin."
"My lips they are sae bitter," he says,
"My breath it is sae strang,
If ye get ae kiss from me to-night,
Your days will not be lang.
"The cocks are crawing, Marjorie,—
The cocks are crawing again:
The dead wi' the quick they mustna stay,
And I must needs be gone."
She followed him high, she followed him low,
Till she came to yon church-yard green,
And there the deep grave opened up,
And young William he lay down.
"What three things are these, sweet William,
That stand beside your head?"
"O it's three maidens, Marjorie,
That once I promised to wed."
"What three things are these, sweet William,
That stand close at your side?"
"O it's three babes," he says, "Marjorie,
That these three maidens had."
"What three things are these, sweet William,
That lie close at thy feet?"
"O it's three hell-hounds, Marjorie,
That's waiting my soul to keep."