The Shee - Lady Margaret | Текст песни

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• The Shee
• Lady Margaret

“Are you my father, the king?” she said,
“Are you my brother John?
Or are you my true love William,” she said,
Coming home from Scotland along, along,
Coming home from Scotland along?”

“I'm not your father, the king,” he said,
“Nor am I your brother John,
But I am your sweetheart William,” he said,
Coming home from Scotland along, along,
Coming home from Scotland along.”

“Oh Margaret, oh Lady Margaret,” he said,
“For love or charity,
Will you give me back the plighted troth
That once, love, I gave thee, gave thee,
That once, love, I gave thee?”

“I'll not give you back your plighted troth
Or any such a thing,
Until you bring me to my father's hall
Where ofttimes we have been, have been,
Where ofttimes we have been.”

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

“Oh Margaret, oh Lady Margaret,” he said,
“For love or charity,
Will you give me back the treasure troth
That once, love, I gave thee, gave thee,
That once, love, I gave thee?”

“I'll not give you back your treasure troth
Or any such a thing,
Until you bring me to my own father's hall
And marry me with a ring, a ring,
And marry me with a ring.”

He took her then to yon high churchyard,
And as they entered in
The gates flew open of their own sweet will
For to let young William in, in,
For to let young William in.

“Oh Margaret, oh Lady Margaret,” he said,
“For love or charity,
Will you give me back the plighted troth
That once, love, I gave thee, gave thee,
That once, love, I gave thee?”

Then out of her pocket she drew a cross
And she laid it on his breast,
Saying, “Here is back your plighted troth,
In Heaven may your soul find rest, find rest,
In Heaven may your soul find rest.”

“Oh the winds do blow and the moorcock crow
And it's nearly breaking day,
And it's time that the living should part from the dead,
So now, my love, I must away, away,
So now, my love, I must away.\"

1. Lady Margaret sitting in her own lone home,
Alone, O all alone,
When she thought she heard a dismal cry,
She heard a deadly moan.

2. \"Is it my father Thomas?\" she said,
\"Or is it my brother John?
Or is it my love, my own dear Willie
Come home to me again?\"

3. \"I am not your father Thomas,\" he said,
\"Nor am I your brother John;
But I am your love, your own dear Willie,
Come home to you again.\"

4. \"Then where are the red and rosy cheeks
That even in winter bloom?
And where are the long and yellow hair
Of the love I lost too soon?\"

5. \"The ground have rotten them off, my dear,
For the worms are quick and free;
And when you're so long lying in your grave,
The same will happen thee.\"

6. He took her by the lily-white hand
And begged her company;
He took her by her apron band,
Says, \"Follow, follow me.\"

7. She took her underskirts one by one
And wrapped them above her knee,
And she's over the hills on a winter's night
In a dead man's company.

8. They walked, they walked to the old churchyard,
Where the grass grow grassy-green:
\"Here's the home where I live now,
The bed I do lie in.\"

9. \"Is there any room at your head, my love,
Is there any room at your feet?
Is there any room about you at all
For me to lie down and sleep?\"

10. \"My father is at my head, dear girl,
My mother is at my feet,
Upon my heart are three hell-hounds
Bound my soul to keep.

11. One is for my drunkenness
And another is for my pride,
And one is for promising a pretty fair girl
That she should be my bride.\"

12. She took the cross from all on her bosom
And smoted him on the breast,
\"Here's your token I kept so long:
God send you a happy rest.\"

13. \"Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight, my love,
Farewell, dear girl,\" said he;
\"If ever the dead may pray for the living,
My love, I'll pray for thee.\"

Child #77
from the singing of Peggy Seeger, Blood and Roses II, from
Newfoundland. But where from? It's close to Greenleaf's
version (1930 in 10 verses), but clearly not her source.
Nor is it in Peacock, though it's a lot closer. MacEdward
Leach prints another fine set, from Labrador. JB

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