Cara - Sweet William's Ghost | Текст песни

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• Cara
• Sweet William's Ghost

Lady Margaret she lay in her fine feather bed,
The midnight hour drew near,
When a ghostly form came to her bed,
And to her did appear

Oh are you my father the king then she cried,
Or are you my brother John,
Or are you my sweet William,
Coming home from Scotland along

No I'm not your father the king then he cried,
Nor am I your brother John,
But I'm your own sweet William,
Coming home from Scotland along

Oh Margaret, oh lady Margaret he cried,
For love or charity,
Will you give back to me that plighted troth,
That once I gave to thee

No I'll not give you back that plighted troth,
Nor any such a thing,
Until you take me to my father's own hall,
Where oft times we have been

Fare thee well, my own true love
Cold the wind does blow
High high the moon is o’er the moor
Woe that I must go

So he took her to her father's own hall,
And as they entered in,
Well the gates flew open of their own free will,
For to let young William in

Oh Margaret, oh lady Margaret he cried,
For love or charity,
Will you give back to me that plighted troth,
That once I gave to thee

No I'll not give you back that plighted troth,
Nor any such a thing,
Until you take me to yon high churchyard,
And there marry me with a ring

Fare thee well, my own true love
Cold the wind does blow
High high the moon is o’er the moor
Woe that I must go

So he took her to yon high churchyard,
And as they entered in,
Well the gates flew open of their own free will,
For to let young William in

Oh Margaret, oh lady Margaret he cried,
For love or charity,
Will you give back to me that plighted troth,
That once I gave to thee

So she took the troth out from her breast,
And she placed it on his chest,
Saying here is you back that plighted troth
And in heaven may your soul find rest

Now the north wind blows and the moor-cocks crow
And it's almost the break of day,
And it's time for the living to depart from the dead,
So my darling I must away