And who so ready as her seven brethren, To let sweet William in. Then he turned up the covering-sheet; "Pray let me see the dead; Methinks she does look pale and wan, She has lost her cherry red. "I'll do more for thee, Margaret, Than any of thy kin: For I will kiss thy pale wan lips, Though a smile I cannot win." With that bespake the seven brethren, Making most piteous mone, "You may go kiss your jolly brown bride, And let our sister alone." "If I do kiss my jolly brown bride, I do but what is right; I ne'er made a vow to yonder poor corpse, By day, or yet by night. "Deal on, deal on, my merry men all, Deal on your cake and your wine: For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day, Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine." Fair Margaret died to-day, to-day, Sweet William died the morrow: Fair Margaret died for pure true love, Sweet William he died for sorrow. Margaret was buried in the lower chancel, And William in the higher: Out of her breast there sprang a rose, And out of his a briar. They grew till they grew unto the church top, And then they could grow no higher; And then they tied in a true lover's knot, Which made all the people admire. Then came the clerk of the parish, As you this truth shall hear, And by misfortune cut them down, Or they had now been there. [Illustration: 0125] EDWARD, EDWARD |Why does your brand sae drap wi' blood Edward, Edward? Why does your brand sae drap wi' blood And why sae sad gang ye oh? "Oh I hae killed my hawk sae good, Mither, mither: Oh I hae killed my hawk so good, And I had no mair but he oh." Your hawk's blood was never sae red, Edward, Edward; Your hawk's blood was never sae red, My dear son I tell thee oh. "Oh I hae killed my red-roan steed, Mither, mither: Oh I hae killed my red roan steed That erst was sae fair and free oh." Your steed was auld, and ye hae got mair, Edward, Edward; Your steed was auld, and ye hae got mair, Some other dule ye dree oh. "Oh I hae killed my father dear, Mither, mither: Oh I hae killed my father dear, Alas! and wae is me oh!" And whatten penance will ye dree for that, Edward, Edward? And whatten penance will ye dree for that? My dear son, now tell me oh. "I'll set my feet in yonder boat, Mither, mither: I'll set my feet in yonder boat, And I'll fare over the sea oh." And what will ye do wi' your towers and your ha', Edward, Edward? And what will ye do wi' your towers and your ha', That were sae fair to see oh? (_dule ye dree_, woe ye die weeping.) "I'll let them stand till they down fa', Mither, mither: I'll let them stand till they down fa', For here never mair maun I be oh."