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    Rogers Stan Lady Margaret текст песни

    Lady Margaret

    Sweet William rose one morning bright
    And dressed himself in blue
    «Come tell to me the long lost love
    Between Lady Margaret and you»

    «I know no harm of Lady Margaret,» said he
    «And I hope she knows none of me
    But tomorrow morning before eight o’clock
    Lady Margaret my bride shall be»

    As Lady Margaret was in her chamber high
    A-combing up her hair
    She spied sweet William and his bride
    As they to the church drew near

    She threw down her ivory comb
    And tossed back her hair
    And from the room a fair lady came
    That was seen in there no more

    The day being gone and the night being come
    When most men were asleep
    Sweet William spied Lady Margaret’s ghost
    A-standing at his bed feet

    «How do you like your bed?» she said
    «And how do you like your sheet?
    And how do you like the fair lady
    That lies in your arms asleep?»

    «Very well do I like my bed,» said he
    «Very well do I like my sheet
    But better do I like the fair lady
    That is standing at my bed feet»

    The night being gone and the day being come
    When most men were awake
    Sweet William said he was troubled in his head
    From a dream he had last night

    He called his weary waiting maids
    By one, by two, by three
    And last of all, with his bride’s consent
    Lady Margaret he went to see

    He went unto the parlor door
    He knocked until he made things ring
    But none was so ready as her own dear brother
    To arise and let him in

    «Is Lady Margaret in the parlor?» said he
    «Or is she in the hall
    Or is she in her chamber high
    Among the gay ladies all?»

    «Lady Margaret is not in the parlor,» said he
    «She is neither in the hall
    She is in her coffin
    And a-lying by the wall»

    «Tear down, tear down, those milk white sheets
    They are made of silk so fine
    That I may kiss Lady Margaret’s cheek
    For ofttimes she has kissed mine»

    The first that he kissed was her rosy cheek
    The next was her dimpled chin
    The last of all was her clay-cold lips
    That pierced his heart within

    «Tear down, tear down those milk white sheets
    They are made of silk so fine
    Today they hang around Lady Margaret’s corpse
    And tomorrow they will hang around mine»

    Lady Margaret died of pure, pure love
    Sweet William died of sorrow
    They are buried in one burying ground
    Both side and side together

    Out of her grave grew a red rose
    And out of his a briar
    They grew in a twining true lover’s knot
    The rose and the green briar

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