Sweet William rose one morning bright 
And dressed himself in blue 
"Come tell to me the long lost love 
Between Lady Margaret and you" 

"I know no harm of Lady Margaret," said he 
"And I hope she knows none of me 
But tomorrow morning before eight o'clock 
Lady Margaret my bride shall be" 

As Lady Margaret was in her chamber high 
A-combing up her hair 
She spied sweet William and his bride 
As they to the church drew near 

She threw down her ivory comb 
And tossed back her hair 
And from the room a fair lady came 
That was seen in there no more 

The day being gone and the night being come 
When most men were asleep 
Sweet William spied Lady Margaret's ghost 
A-standing at his bed feet 

"How do you like your bed?" she said 
"And how do you like your sheet? 
And how do you like the fair lady 
That lies in your arms asleep?" 

"Very well do I like my bed," said he 
"Very well do I like my sheet 
But better do I like the fair lady 
That is standing at my bed feet" 

The night being gone and the day being come 
When most men were awake 
Sweet William said he was troubled in his head 
From a dream he had last night 

He called his weary waiting maids 
By one, by two, by three 
And last of all, with his bride's consent 
Lady Margaret he went to see 

He went unto the parlor door 
He knocked until he made things ring 
But none was so ready as her own dear brother 
To arise and let him in 

"Is Lady Margaret in the parlor?" said he 
"Or is she in the hall 
Or is she in her chamber high 
Among the gay ladies all?" 

"Lady Margaret is not in the parlor," said he 
"She is neither in the hall 
She is in her coffin 
And a-lying by the wall" 

"Tear down, tear down, those milk white sheets 
They are made of silk so fine 
That I may kiss Lady Margaret's cheek 
For ofttimes she has kissed mine" 

The first that he kissed was her rosy cheek 
The next was her dimpled chin 
The last of all was her clay-cold lips 
That pierced his heart within 

"Tear down, tear down those milk white sheets 
They are made of silk so fine 
Today they hang around Lady Margaret's corpse 
And tomorrow they will hang around mine" 

Lady Margaret died of pure, pure love 
Sweet William died of sorrow 
They are buried in one burying ground 
Both side and side together 

Out of her grave grew a red rose 
And out of his a briar 
They grew in a twining true lover's knot 
The rose and the green briar