There came a ghost to Margaret's door
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With many a greivous groan
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And aye he's tirled long at the pin
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But answer she gave none
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Is it my father phillip?
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Or yet my brother John?
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Or yet my own dear william
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From Scotland now come home?
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Thy faith, I troth, you'll never get
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And me you'll never win
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Til you take me to yon churchyard
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And wed me with the ring.
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Oh I do dwell in a churchyard
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But far beyond the sea
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And it is but my Ghost, Margaret
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That speaks now unto thee
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So she's put on her robes of green
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With a piece below the knee
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And o'er the live-lang winter's night
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The sweet ghost followed she
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Is there room at your head, willie
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Or room here at your feet?
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Or room here at your side, willie,
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wherein that I may sleep?
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There's no room at my head, Margaret
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There's no room at my feet
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There's no room at my side Margaret
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My coffin is so neat.
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Then up and spoke the red robin
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And up spoke the grey
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'tis time, 'tis time, my dear Margaret
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That I was gone away
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No more the ghost to Margaret came
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With many a greivous groan
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He's vanished out into the mist
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And left her there alone
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Oh stay, my only true love, stay
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My heart you do divide
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Pale grew her cheeks, she closed her eyes
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Stretched out her limbs and cried
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Sweet William's Ghost
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| Kate Rusby |
