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