SWEET WILLIAM'S GHOST
(Trad)

Lady Margaret sat in her low-roof room
She was sewing all alone
Till after the parting of midnight
She heard a mournful sound

O is it my father? Is it my mother?
Or is it my brother John?
Or is it my true love, young William
From London new come home?

O it's not your father or mother, he cried
Nor yet your brother John
But I am your true love, young William
And I am not a living man

Fair Margaret, rare Margaret
And Margaret of vanity
Don't ever love any other young man
The way that you loved me

O that's a promise that I'll not give
O no, that will not I
Till I have a kiss from your sweet lips
As in my arms you lie

My lips they are so bitter, he said
My breath is earthy strong
That if you was to cuddle me in your arms
Your time would not be long

Well, he's took her by the apron string
Said, Dear love, follow me
And it's over the hills on a fine summer night
In a dead man's company

Well, they ran till they came to the low church-yard
Where the grass grows rank and green
He said, Dear love, this is the place
Where my fair body dwells in

Is there no room at your bed-head
Is there no room at your feet
Or is there no room at your right side
For a lady like me to sleep?

Three maids do lie at my right side
That I once promised to wed
Three babes do lie at my bed-foot
That these three maidens had

O what is this, poor Margaret cries
That stands at your bed-head?
They are the three hounds of Hell, he said
To guide the souls of the dead

Then up then crowed the milk-white cock
And up then crowed the grey
And he vanished in the dew-wet ground
And she went weeping away

As sung by Hughie Jones on 'Voices'