'Twas in the merry, merry month of May When the meadows looked fresh and gay, He hung his bugles around about his neck And he went riding away. He rode ‘till he came to Fair Ellen’s home. He knocked and he tingled at the ring. “Asleep or awake. Fair Ellen,” I said, “Pray arise and let me in.” Fair Ellen she arose and she slipped on her clothes To let Sweet William in: No one was so ready as Fair Ellen herself To arise and let him in. Then he mounted her upon the milkwhite steed, Himself on the iron gray. He hung his bugles around about his neck And they went riding away. They rode ’till thay came in three miles of the place, They stopped and looked all around. They looked and they saw some seven armed men Come hasting over the ground. “You get down, Fair Ellen,” I said, “And take my steed in hand, ‘Till I go back to yonder’s spring And stop those seven armed men.” She stood ’till she saw her six brothers fall, Her father fall so near. “Sweet William,” I said,“come and stop your chase For you seem almost too severe.” She took a handkerchief from her side, Was made of linen so fine; She took and wiped his bleeding, bleeding wound For the blood run as red as any wine. Then he mounted her upon his milkwhite steed, Himself on the iron gray, He hung his bugles around about his neck And they went riding away. They rode ’till they came to his mother’s home, They knocked and he tingled at the ring, “Asleep or awake, dear mother,” I said, “Pray arise and let me in.” His mother arose and she slipped on her clothes To let Sweet William in; No one was so ready as his mother herself To arise and let him in. “Dear mother,” I said,“come and bind up my head, You never shall bind it anymore.” Sweet William he died from the wound that he bore And Fair Ellen she died also.