Page:Four favourite songs (104185890).pdf/4

4 Dark are my eyes, now clos' in death, And every charm is fled.

The hungry worm my sister is This winding-sheet I wear; And cold and weary lasts our night, Till the last morn appear.

But, lark! the cock has warn'd me hence; A long and late adieu! Come see, false man! how low she lies Who died for love of you."

The lark sung loud, the morning smil'd With beans of rosy red; Pale William quak'd in every limb, And, raving, left his bed.

He lied him to the fatal place Where Margaret's body lay, And stretch'a him on the green-grass turf That wrapt her breathless clay.

And thrice he call'd on Margaret's name, And thrice he wept full sore; Then laid his cheek to her cold grave. And word spake never more.

GO, YARROW FLOWER.

Go, Yarrow flow'r, thou shalt be blest To lie on beauteous Marv's breast;