University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The English and Scottish Popular Ballads

Edited by Francis James Child.

expand sectionI. 
expand sectionII. 
expand sectionIII. 
expand sectionIV. 
expand sectionV. 
expand sectionVI. 
collapse sectionVII. 
expand section189. 
expand section190. 
expand section191. 
expand section192. 
expand section193. 
expand section194. 
expand section195. 
expand section196. 
expand section197. 
expand section198. 
expand section199. 
expand section200. 
expand section201. 
expand section202. 
expand section203. 
collapse section204. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
expand section205. 
expand section206. 
expand section207. 
expand section208. 
expand section209. 
expand section210. 
expand section211. 
expand section212. 
expand section213. 
expand section214. 
expand section215. 
expand section216. 
expand section217. 
expand section218. 
expand section219. 
expand section220. 
expand section221. 
expand section222. 
expand section223. 
expand section224. 
expand section225. 
expand sectionVIII. 
expand sectionIX. 

Sweet William and May Margaret

SWEET WILLIAM'S GHOST—E

[_]

Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 241.

1

As May Margret sat in her bouerie,
In her bouer all alone,
At the very parting o midnicht
She heard a mournfu moan.

2

‘O is it my father? O is it my mother?
Or is it my brother John?
Or is it Sweet William, my ain true-love,
To Scotland new come home?’

3

‘It is na your father, it is na your mother,
It is na your brother John;
But it is Sweet William, your ain true-love,
To Scotland new come home.’

4

‘Hae ye brought me onie fine things,
Onie new thing for to wear?
Or hae ye brought me a braid o lace,
To snood up my gowden hair?’

5

‘I've brought ye na fine things at all,
Nor onie new thing to wear,
Nor hae I brought ye a braid of lace,
To snood up your gowden hair.

6

‘But Margaret, dear Margaret,
I pray ye speak to me;
O gie me back my faith and troth,
As dear as I gied it thee.’

7

‘Your faith and troth ye sanna get,
Nor will I wi ye twin,
Till ye come within my bouer,
And kiss me, cheek and chin.’

8

‘O should I come within your bouer,
I am na earthly man;
If I should kiss your red, red lips,
Your days wad na be lang.

9

‘O Margaret, dear Margaret,
I pray ye speak to me;
O gie me back my faith and troth,
As dear as I gied it thee.’

10

‘Your faith and troth ye sanna get,
Nor will I wi ye twin,
Till ye tak me to yonder kirk,
And wed me wi a ring.’

11

‘My banes are buried in yon kirk-yard,
It's far ayont the sea;
And it is my spirit, Margaret,
That's speaking unto thee.’

12

‘Your faith and troth ye sanna get,
Nor will I twin wi thee,

233

Till ye tell me the pleasures o heaven,
And pains of hell how they be.’

13

‘The pleasures of heaven I wat not of,
But the pains of hell I dree;
There some are hie hangd for huring,
And some for adulterie.’

14

Then Margret took her milk-white hand,
And smoothd it on his breast:
‘Tak your faith and troth, William,
God send your soul good rest!’