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Rh "If I should come within thy bower,—I am no mortal man,— And should I kiss thy rosy lips, thy days would not be lang.

"Oh, dear Margaret, oh, sweet Margaret, I pray thee speak to me; Gie me my faith and troth, Margaret, as I gave it to thee!" "Thy faith and troth thou's never get, nor yet will I thee lend, Till thou take me to yon kirk-yard, and wed me with a ring."

"My bones are buried in yon kirk-yard, afar beyond the sea. And 'tis but my spirit, Margaret, that's speaking now to thee!" She stretched out her lily-white hand, and for to do her best; "Hae there your faith and troth, Willy, God send your soul to rest!"

And now she has kilted her robes of green a piece below the knee, And a' the live-lang winter night the dead corpse followed she. "Is there onie room at your head, Willy, or onie room at your feet, Is there onie room at your side, Willy, wherein that I mav creep?"

"There's na room at my head, Margaret, there's na room at my feet, There's na room at my side, Margaret, my coffin's made so meet." Then up and crew the red, red cock, and up then crew the gray; "'Tis time, 'tis time, my dear Margaret, that you were going away!"

No more the ghost to Margaret said, but with a grievous groan Evanished in a cloud of mist and left her all alone. "O stay, my only true love, stay!" the constant Margaret cried; Wan grew her cheeks, she closed her een, stretched her soft limbs, and died.