When day was gone, and nicht was come, And all men fast asleip, Then came the spirit of fair Margaret, And stood at William's feet. 'Are you awake, sweit William?' she said; 'Or, sweit William, are you asleip? God give you joy of your gay bride-bed, And me of my winding-sheet!' When day was come, and nicht was gone, And all men waked from sleip, Sweit William to his lady said: 'My deir, I have cause to weep. 'I dreimt a dreim, my dear ladye; Such dreims are never good: I dreimt my bouir was full of red swine, And my bride-bed full of blood.' 'Such dreims, such dreims, my honoured sir, They never do prove good; To dreim thy bouir was full of red swine, And thy bride-bed full of blood.' He called up his merry-men all, By one, by two, and by three; Saying: 'I'll away to fair Margaret's bouir, By the leave of my ladye.' And when he came to fair Margaret's bouir, He knockit at the ring; And who so ready as her seven brethren To let sweit William in. Then he turned up the covering sheet: 'Pray, let me see the deid; Methinks, she looks all pale and wan; She hath 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 moan: '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 nor 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, Sweit William died to-morrow; Fair Margaret died for pure true love, Sweit William 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 brier. They grew till they grew unto the church-top, And then they could grow no higher; And there they tied in a true lovers' knot, Which made all the people admire. Then came the clerk of the parish, As you the truth shall hear, And by misfortune cut them down, Or they had now been there.