Little Margaret

Little Margaret sittin' in her high hall chair
Combin' back her long yellow hair
Saw her sweet groom and his new-made bride
Ridin' up the road so near
She threw down her ivory comb
She threw back her long yellow hair
Said I'll go out and bid him farewell
Never more go there

It was late in the night
When they were fast asleep
Little Margaret appeared all dressed in white
Standin' at their bed-feet
How do you like your snow-white pillow?
How do you like your sheet?
How do you like that pretty little maiden
Lies in your arms asleep?

Very well do I like my snow-white pillow
Very well do I like my sheet
Much better do I like that pretty little maiden
Stands at my bed-feet

Then he called his servant man to go
And saddled the dapple roan
And he rode to her father's house at night
And he knocked on the door alone
Oh, is little Margaret in the room?
Or is she in the hall?
Little Margaret's in her coal-black coffin
With her face turned to the wall

Unfold, unfold those snow-white robes
Be they ever so fine
And let me kiss her cold, cold lips
For I know they'll never kiss mine
For I know they'll never kiss mine