William and Margaret.
WHEN all was wrapt in dark midnight,
and all was fast asleep;
In glided Marg'ret's grimly Ghost,
and stood at William’s feet.
Her face was like the April morn,
clad in a wintry cloud
And clay cold was her lilly hand,
that held the sable shroud.
So shall the fairest face appear,
when youth and years are shown;
uch is the robe that Kings must wear
when death has reft the crown.
Her blood is like the springing flow'r,
that sips the silver dew
The rose was budded in her cheek,
and op'ning to the view.
But love had like the canker worm,
consum’d her early prime:
The rose grew pale and left her cheek,
she died before her prime:
Awake, she cry’d, thy true love calls,
came from her midnight grave;
Now let thy pity hear the maid,
thy love refus'd to save.
This is the d rk and f arful hour,
when injur’d ghosts complain,
Now dreary graves give up their dead,
to hunt the faithless swain.
Bethink thee William, of thy fault,
thy pledge and broken oath,
And give me back my maiden vow,
and give me back my troth
How could you say my face was fair,
and yet that face forsake?
How could you win my virgin heart,
yet leave that hurt to break,
How could you promise love to me,
and not that promise keep?
Why did you swear my eyes were bright,
yet leave these eyes to weep?
How could you s y my lips were red,
and made the scarlet pa e?
And why did I young witless maid,
believe your flattering tale?
That face, alas,! no more is fair;
these lips no longer red,
Dark are mine eyes, now clos'd in death,
and every charm is fled.
The hungry worm my sister is,
this winding sheet I wear
And cold and weary lasts that night,
till that last morn appear.
But hark! the cock has warn'd me hence,
a last and long adieu;
Come see false man, how low she lies,
that died for love of you.
Now birds did sing and morning smil'd
and shew’d her glist'ring head;
Pale William shook in ev'ry limb;
then raving left his bed.
He hy'd him to the fatal place,
where Marg'ret's body lay,
And stretch'd him on the green grass (illegible text),
that wrapt her breathless clay,
And thrice he call'd on Marg'ret's name,
and thrice he wept full f r ,
Then laid his cheek to the cold earth,
and words spoke never more.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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