Sweet William he would a-wooing ride,
His steed was lovely brown;
A fairer creature than Lady Margaret
Sweet William could not find.
Sweet William came to Lady Margaret's bower,
And knockèd at the ring,
And who so ready as Lady Margaret
To rise and let him in.
Down then came her father dear,
Clothèd all in blue:
"I pray, Sweet William, tell to me
What love's between my daughter and you?'
"I know none by her,' he said,
"And she knows none by me;
Before tomorrow at this time
Another bride you shall see.'
Lady Margaret at her bower window,
Combing of her hair,
She saw Sweet William and his brown bride
Unto the church repair.
Down she cast her iv'ry comb,
And up she tossed her hair,
She went out of her bower alive,
But never no more came there.
When day was gone, and night was come,
All people were asleep,
In glided Margaret's grimly ghost,
And stood at William's feet.
"How d'ye like your bed, Sweet William?
How d'ye like your sheet?
And how d'ye like that brown lady
That lies in your arms asleep?'
"Well I like my bed, Lady Margaret,
And well I like my sheet;
But better I like that fair lady
That stands as my bed's feet.'
When night was gone, and day was come,
All people were awake,
The lady waked out of her sleep,
And thus to her lord she spake.
"I dreamed a dream, my wedded lord,
That seldom comes to good;
I dreamed that our bower was lin'd with white swine,
And our bride-chamber full of blood.'
He called up his merry men all,
By one, by two, by three:
"We will go to Lady Margaret's bower,
With the leave of my wedded lady.'
When he came to Lady Margaret's bower,
He knockèd at the ring,
And none were so ready as her brethren
To rise and let him in.
"Oh is she in the parlour,' he said,
"Or is she in the hall?
Or is she in the long chamber,
Amongst her merry maids all?'
"She's not in the parlour,' they said,
"Nor is she in the hall;
But she is in the long chamber
Laid out against the wall.'
"Open the winding sheet,' he cried,
"That I may kiss the dead;
That I may kiss her pale and wan
Whose lips used to look so red.'
Lady Margaret died on the over night,
Sweet William died on the morrow;
Lady Margaret died for pure, pure love,
Sweet William died for sorrow.
On Margaret's grave there grew a rose,
On Sweet William's grew a briar;
They grew till they joined in a true lover's knot,
And then they died both together.
His steed was lovely brown;
A fairer creature than Lady Margaret
Sweet William could not find.
Sweet William came to Lady Margaret's bower,
And knockèd at the ring,
And who so ready as Lady Margaret
To rise and let him in.
Down then came her father dear,
Clothèd all in blue:
"I pray, Sweet William, tell to me
What love's between my daughter and you?'
"I know none by her,' he said,
"And she knows none by me;
Before tomorrow at this time
Another bride you shall see.'
Lady Margaret at her bower window,
Combing of her hair,
She saw Sweet William and his brown bride
Unto the church repair.
Down she cast her iv'ry comb,
And up she tossed her hair,
She went out of her bower alive,
But never no more came there.
When day was gone, and night was come,
All people were asleep,
In glided Margaret's grimly ghost,
And stood at William's feet.
"How d'ye like your bed, Sweet William?
How d'ye like your sheet?
And how d'ye like that brown lady
That lies in your arms asleep?'
"Well I like my bed, Lady Margaret,
And well I like my sheet;
But better I like that fair lady
That stands as my bed's feet.'
When night was gone, and day was come,
All people were awake,
The lady waked out of her sleep,
And thus to her lord she spake.
"I dreamed a dream, my wedded lord,
That seldom comes to good;
I dreamed that our bower was lin'd with white swine,
And our bride-chamber full of blood.'
He called up his merry men all,
By one, by two, by three:
"We will go to Lady Margaret's bower,
With the leave of my wedded lady.'
When he came to Lady Margaret's bower,
He knockèd at the ring,
And none were so ready as her brethren
To rise and let him in.
"Oh is she in the parlour,' he said,
"Or is she in the hall?
Or is she in the long chamber,
Amongst her merry maids all?'
"She's not in the parlour,' they said,
"Nor is she in the hall;
But she is in the long chamber
Laid out against the wall.'
"Open the winding sheet,' he cried,
"That I may kiss the dead;
That I may kiss her pale and wan
Whose lips used to look so red.'
Lady Margaret died on the over night,
Sweet William died on the morrow;
Lady Margaret died for pure, pure love,
Sweet William died for sorrow.
On Margaret's grave there grew a rose,
On Sweet William's grew a briar;
They grew till they joined in a true lover's knot,
And then they died both together.