There came a ghost to Margaret's door With many a grievious groan And aye he turled long at the pin But answer she gave none "Is it my father Phillip? Or yet my brother John? Or yet my own dear William From Scotland, now came home?" "Thy faith and troth you'll never get Of me you'll never win Till you take to yon churchyard And wed me with a ring Oh, I do dwell in a churchyard But far beyond the sea And this is but my ghost, Margaret That speaks now unto thee." So she's put on her robes of green With a piece below the knee And all the live long winters night The sweet ghost followed she "Is there room at your head, Willie? Or room here at your feet? Or room here at your side, Willie Where in that I may sleep?" "There's no room at my head, Margaret And no room at my feet There's no room at my side, Margaret My coffin is so neat" Then up and spoke the red robin And up and spoke the grey "Tis' time, tis' time, my dear Margaret That I were gone away." No more the ghost to Margaret came With many a grievious groan He's vanished out into the mist And left her there alone "Oh, stay my one true love, stay! My heart you do divide." Pale grew her cheeks, she closed her eyes Stretched out her limbs and cried