In glided Margaret's grimly ghost, And stood at William's feet. 'Fair Margaret and Sweet William' begins like 'Lord Thomas and Fair Annet,' and from the fifth stanza on is blended with a form of that ballad represented by versions #E-H#. The _brown_ girl, characteristic of 'Lord Thomas and Fair Annet,' has slipped into #A# 14, 15, #B# 8, of 'Fair Margaret and Sweet William.' The catastrophe of 'Fair Margaret and Sweet William' is repeated in 'Lord Lovel,' and it will be convenient to notice under the head of the latter, which immediately follows, some ballads out of English which resemble both, especially in the conclusion. * * * * * #A c# is translated by Bodmer, II, 31, Döring, p. 199; #A d# by Herder, 1778, I, 124, von Marées, p. 40, Knortz, Lieder u. Romanzen Alt-Englands, No 61. A #a.# Douce Ballads, I, fol. 72. #b.# Ritson, A Select Collection of English Songs, 1783, II, 190. #c.# Percy's Reliques, 1765, III, 121. #d.# Percy's Reliques, 1767, III, 119. 1 As it fell out on a long summer's day, Two lovers they sat on a hill; They sat together that long summer's day, And could not talk their fill. 2 'I see no harm by you, Margaret, Nor you see none by me; Before tomorrow eight a clock A rich wedding shall you see.' 3 Fair Margaret sat in her bower-window, A combing of her hair, And there she spy'd Sweet William and his bride, As they were riding near. 4 Down she layd her ivory comb, And up she bound her hair; She went her way forth of her bower, But never more did come there. 5 When day was gone, and night was come, And all men fast asleep, Then came the spirit of Fair Margaret, And stood at William's feet. 6 'God give you joy, you two true lovers, In bride-bed fast asleep; Loe I am going to my green grass grave, And am in my winding-sheet.' 7 When day was come, and night was gone, And all men wak'd from sleep, Sweet William to his lady said, My dear, I have cause to weep. 8 'I dreamd a dream, my dear lady; Such dreams are never good; I dreamd my bower was full of red swine, And my bride-bed full of blood.' 9 'Such dreams, such dreams, my honoured lord, They never do prove good, To dream thy bower was full of swine, And [thy] bride-bed full of blood.' 10 He called up his merry men all, By one, by two, and by three, Saying, I'll away to Fair Margaret's bower, By the leave of my lady. 11 And when he came to Fair Margaret's bower, He knocked at the ring; So ready was her seven brethren To let Sweet William in. 12 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.