The Oxford Book of Ballads - online book

A Selection Of The Best English Lyric Ballads Chosen & Edited by Arthur Quiller-Couch

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41 thank ye, Marg'ret; I thank ye, Marg'ret;
And ay I thank ye heartilie; 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.
' 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 ?'
' There 's nae room at my head, Marg'ret,
There 's nae room at my feet; My bed it is fu' lowly now,
Amang the hungry worms I sleep.
k 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; And shed a tear upon my grave,
And wish my saul gude rest.'
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