I fee no harm by you, Margarèt,

And you fee none by me;
Before to-morrow at eight o'clock
A rich wedding you shall fee.

Fair Margaret fate in her bower-window,
A combing of her hair;

There the efpied fweet William and his bride,
As they were a riding near.

Down the laid her ivory comb,

And up fhe bound her hair;
She went away first from the bower,
But never more came there.

When day was gone, and night was come,

And all men faft afleep,

Then came the fpirit of fair Margaret,

And flood at Williams bed feet.

God give you joy, you true lovèrs,
In bride-bed faft afleep;

Lo! I am going to my grafs-green grave,
And I am in my winding sheet.

When day was come, and night was gone,

And all men wak'd from fleep,

Sweet William to his lady faid,
My dear, I've cause to weep.

I dream'd

I dream'd a dream, my dear lady,

Such dreams are never good;

I dream'd my bower was full of red swine,
And my bride-bed full of blood.

Such dreams, fuch dreams, my honour'd fir,
They never do prove good;

To dream thy bower was full of swine,
And thy bride-bed full of blood.

He called his merry men all,

By one, by two, and by three, Saying, I'll away to fair Margarets bower, By the leave of my lady.

And when he came to fair Margarets bower, He knocked at the ring;

So ready were her seven brethren,

To let fweet William in.

Then he turn'd up the covering-sheet,
Pray let me fee the dead;
Methinks she looks both pale and wan,

She has loft her cherry red.

I'll do more for thee, Margarèt,

Than any of thy kin;

For I will kifs thy pale wan lips,
Though a smile I cannot win.

With that bespoke the feven brethren,
Making most piteous moan,

You may go kifs your jolly brown dame,
And let our fifter alone.

If I do kiss my jolly brown dame,
I do but what is right;

For I made no vow to your fifter dear,
By day, nor yet by night.

Pray tell me, then, how much you'll deal,

So much as is dealt at her funeral to-day,
To-morrow shall be dealt at mine.

Fair Margaret died to-day, to-day,
Sweet William he died the morrow;
Fair Margaret died for pure true love,
Sweet William he died for forrow.

Margaret was buried in the lower chancèl,
And William in the higher;

Out of her breaft there sprang a rose,

And out of his a briar.

They grew as high as the church-top,

Till they could grow no higher;

And there they grew in a true lovers knot,
Which made all the people admire.

VOL. II.

Then

Then came the clerk of the parìfh,

As you this truth shall hear,
And by misfortune cut them down,

Or they had now been there.

BALLAD III.

BATEMANS TRAGEDY.*

OU dainty dames fo finely fram'd

You

Of beautys chiefeft mold,

And you that trip it up and down,

Like lambs in Cupids fold,
Here is a leffon to be learn'd;
A leffon, in my mind,

For fuch as will prove falfe in love,
And bear a faithlefs mind.

Not far from Nottingham, of late,

In Clifton, as I hear,

There dwelt a fair and comely dame,

For beauty without peer;

Her cheeks were like the crimson-rose;
Yet, as you may perceive,

The faireft face, the falfeft heart,

And fooneft will deceive.

*The full title of the old copy is, "A Godly Warning to all Maidens, by the Example of God's Judgment fhewed on Jerman's Wife of Clifton, in the County of Nottingham, who, lying in child-bed was born away, and never heard of after." A tragedy, intitled The Vow breaker, written by one William Sampfon, and printed in 1636, is founded on this ballad, and quotes two or three verfes from it, as a lamentable new ditty."

This gallant dame she was belov'd

Of many in that place;

And many fought, in marriage-bed,
Her body to embrace :

At laft a proper handsome youth,
Young Bateman call'd by name,
In hopes to make a married wife,
Unto this maiden came.

Such love and liking there was found,
That he, from all the reft,
Had ftol'n away the maidens heart,
And fhe did love him beft:
Then plighted promise fecretly
Did pafs between them two,
That nothing could, but death itself,
This true loves knot undo.

He brake a piece of gold in twain,
One half to her he gave ;
The other, as a pledge, quoth he,
Dear heart, myself will have.
If I do break my vow, quoth fhe,
While I remain alive,

May never thing I take in hand
Be feen at all to thrive.

This paffed on for two months space,

And then this maid began

To fettle love and liking too

Upon another man: