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The Haunters and the Haunted edited by Ernest Rhys online

The Haunters and the Haunted edited by Ernest Rhys


And they lay still and sleepit sound,
Till the day began to daw;
And kindly to him she did say,
"It is time, love, you were awa'."

But he lay still, and sleepit sound,
Till the sun began to sheen;
She looked atween her and the wa',
And dull, dull were his een.

She turned the blankets to the foot,
The sheets unto the wa',
And there she saw his bloody wound,
And her tears fast doun did fa'.

Then in and cam her father dear,
Said, "Let a' your mournin' be;
I'll carry the dead corpse to the clay
And then come back and comfort thee.

"Hold your tongue, my daughter dear,
And let your mourning be;
I'll wed you to a higher match
Than his father's son could be."

"Gae comfort weel your seven sons, father,
For man sall ne'er comfort me;
Ye'll marry me wi' the Queen o' Heaven,
For wedded I ne'er sall be!"

The clinking bell gaed through the toun,
To carry the dead corse to the clay;
And Clerk Saunders stood at Margaret's window,
'Twas an hour before the day.

"O'are ye sleeping, Margaret?" he says,
"Or are ye waking presentlie?
Gie me my faith and troth again,
I wot, true love, I gied to thee.

"I canna rest, Margaret," he says,
"Doun in the grave where I must be,
Till ye gie me my faith and troth again,
I wot, true love, I gied to thee."

"Your faith and troth ye sall never get,
Nor our true love sall never twin,
Until ye come within my bower,
And kiss me cheek and chin."

"My mouth it is full cold, Margaret,
It has the smell, now, of the ground;
And if I kiss thy comely mouth,
To the grave thou will be bound.

"O, cocks are crawing a merry midnight,
I wot the wild-fowls are boding day;
Gie me my faith and troth again,
And let me fare me on my way."

"Thy faith and troth thou sall na get,
And our true love shall never twin,
Until ye tell what comes of women,
I wot, who die in strong travailing."