Clerk Saunders he started, and Margaret
she turned
Into his arms as asleep she lay;
And sad and silent was the night
That was atween thir twae.
And they lay still and sleeped sound,
Until the day began to daw;
And kindly to him she did say,
“It is time, true love, you
were awa’.”
But he lay still, and sleeped sound,
Albeit the sun began to sheen;
She looked atween her and the wa’,
And dull and drowsie were his een.
Then in and came her father dear,
Said—“Let a’
your mourning be:
“I’ll carry the dead corpse
to the clay,
“And I’ll come back
and comfort thee.”
“Comfort weel your seven sons;
“For comforted will I never
be:
“I ween ’twas neither knave
nor lown
“Was in the bower last night
wi’ me.”
The clinking bell gaed through the town,
To carry the dead corse to the clay;
And Clerk Saunders stood at may Margaret’s
window,
I wot, an hour before the day.
“Are ye sleeping, Margaret?”
he says,
“Or are ye waking presentlie?
“Give me my faith and troth again,
“I wot, true love, I gied
to thee.”
“Your faith and troth ye sall never
get,
“Nor our true love sall never
twin,
“Until ye come within my bower,
“And kiss me cheik and chin.”
“My mouth it is full cold, Margaret,
“It has the smell, now, of
the ground;
“And if I kiss thy comely mouth,
“Thy days of life will not
be lang.
“O, cocks are crowing a merry midnight,
“I wot the wild fowls are
boding day;
“Give me my faith and troth again,
“And let me fare me on my
way.”
“Thy faith and troth thou sall na
get,
“And our true love sall never
twin,
“Until ye tell what comes of women,
“I wot, who die in strong
traivelling?"[B]
“Their beds are made in the heavens
high,
“Down at the foot of our good
lord’s knee,
“Weel set about wi’ gillyflowers:
“I wot sweet company for to
see.
“O cocks are crowing a merry mid-night,
“I wot the wild fowl
are boding day;
“The psalms of heaven will soon
be sung,
“And I, ere now, will
be missed away.”
Then she has ta’en a crystal wand,
And she has stroken her troth
thereon;
She has given it him out at the shot-window,
Wi’ mony a sad sigh,
and heavy groan.
“I thank ye, Marg’ret; I thank
ye, Marg’ret;
“And aye I thank ye
heartilie;
“Gin ever the dead come for the
quick,
“Be sure, Marg’ret,
I’ll come for thee.”
Its hosen and shoon, and gown alone,
She climbed the wall, and
followed him,
Until she came to the green forest,
And there she lost the sight
o’ him.
“Is there ony room at your head,
Saunders?
“Is there ony room at
your feet?
“Or ony room at your side, Saunders,
“Where fain, fain, I
wad sleep?”