"O sweet Margret! O dear Margret! I pray thee speak to me: Give me my faith and troth, Margret, As I gave it to thee." "Thy faith and troth thou'se never get, Of me shalt never 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 lip, Thy days will not be lang. "O sweet Margret, O dear Margret, I pray thee speak to me: Give me my faith and troth, Margret, As I gave it to thee."-- "Thy faith and troth thou'se never get, Of me shalt never win, Till thou take me to yon kirkyard, And wed me with a ring."-- "My bones are buried in a kirkyard Afar beyond the sea, And it is but my sprite, Margret, That's speaking now to thee." She stretch-ed out her lily-white hand, As for to do her best: "Hae there your faith and troth, Willie, God send your soul good rest!" Now she has kilted her robes of green, A piece below her knee: And a' the live-lang winter night The dead corpse followed she. "Is there any room at your head, Willie? Or any room at your feet? Or any room at your side, Willie, Wherein that I may creep?" "There's nae room at my head, Margret, There's nae room at my feet, There's nae room at my side, Margret, My coffin is made so meet." Then up and crew the red red cock, And up then crew the gray: "'Tis time, 'tis time, my dear Margret, That I were gane away." No more the ghost to Margret said, But, with a grievous groan, Evanished in a cloud of mist, And left her all alone. "O stay, my only true love, stay!" The constant Margret cried: Wan grew her cheeks, she closed her een, Stretched her saft limbs, and died. THE BRAES O' YARROW. Ten lords sat drinking at the wine, Intill a morning early; There fell a combat them among, It must be fought,--nae parly. --"O stay at hame, my ain gude lord, O stay, my ain dear marrow."-- "Sweetest mine, I will be thine, And dine wi' you to-morrow." She's kissed his lips, and combed his hair, As she had done before, O; Gied him a brand down by his side, And he is on to Yarrow. As he gaed ower yon dowie knowe, As aft he'd dune before, O; Nine arm-ed men lay in a den, Upo' the braes o' Yarrow. "O came ye here to hunt or hawk, As ye hae done before, O? Or came ye here to wiel' your brand, Upo' the braes o' Yarrow."-- "I came nae here to hunt nor hawk, As I hae dune before, O; But I came here to wiel' my brand, Upon the braes o' Yarrow."--