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 shall never twin, Until tell what comes of women,

ye

I wot, who die in strong traiveling.”

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"Their beds are made in the heavens high, 25 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 midnight,
I wot the wild fowl are boding day;
The psalms of heaven will soon be sung,
And I, ere now, will be miss'd away."-

Then she has ta'en a crystal wand,

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And she has stroken her troth thereon ; She has given it him out at the shot-window, 35 Wi' mony a sad sigh, and heavy groan.

"I thank ye, Marg'ret; I thank ye, Margret ;

ye

heartilie;

And aye

I thank

33. Chrisom.

Gin ever the dead come for the quick,
Be sure, Marg❜ret, I'll come for thee.".

It's hosen and shoon and gown alone,
She climb❜d the wall, and follow'd him,
Until she came to the green forest,

And there she lost the sight o' him.

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"Is there ony room at your head, Saunders? 45 Is there ony room at your feet?

Or ony room at your side, Saunders,
Where fain, fain, I wad sleep?"

"There's nae room at my head, Marg❜ret, There's nae room at my feet;

My bed it is full lowly now:

Amang the hungry worms I sleep.

"Cauld mould is my covering now,

But and my winding-sheet;

The dew it falls nae sooner down,
Than my resting place is weet.

"But plait a wand o' bonny birk, And lay it on my breast;

50

55

57. The custom of binding the new-laid sod of the churchyard with osiers, or other saplings, prevailed both in England and Scotland, and served to protect the turf from injury by cattle, or otherwise. SCOTT.

And shed a tear upon my grave,

And wish my saul gude rest.

“And fair Margret, and rare Margʼret,
And Margret o' veritie,

Gin e'er ye love another man,
Ne'er love him as ye did me.".

Then

up

and crew the milk-white cock, And up and crew the grey; Her lover vanish'd in the air,

And she gaed weeping away.

60

65

SWEET WILLIE AND LADY MARGERIE.

From Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 370.

"THIS Ballad, which possesses considerable beauty and pathos, is given from the recitation of a lady, now far advanced in years, with whose grandmother it was a deserved favourite. It is now for the first time printed. It bears some resemblance to Clerk Saunders."

Subjoined is a different copy from Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland.

SWEET WILLIE was a widow's son,
And he wore a milk-white weed 0;
And weel could Willie read and write,
Far better ride on steed O.

Lady Margerie was the first ladye

That drank to him the wine O;

And aye as the healths gaed round and round, "Laddy, your love is mine O.”

Lady Margerie was the first ladye

That drank to him the beer 0;

And aye as the healths gaed round and round, Laddy, ye're welcome here O.

"You must come intill my bower,
When the evening bells do ring 0;
And you must come intill my bower,
When the evening mass doth sing O.”

He's taen four-and-twenty braid arrows,
And laced them in a whang O;

And he 's awa to Lady Margerie's bower,
As fast as he can gang 0.

He set his ae foot on the wa',

And the other on a stane O;

And he 's kill'd a' the king's life guards,
He's kill'd them every man O.

"O open, open, Lady Margerie,
Open and let me in 0;

The weet weets a' my yellow hair,
And the dew draps on my chin O.”

With her feet as white as sleet,

She strode her bower within O ; And with her fingers lang and sma', She's looten sweet Willie in O.

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