There came a ghost to Margaret's door,
With many a grievous groan.
And aye he's 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 come home?
"Thy faith, I troth, you'll never get,
And me you'll never win!
Til' you take me to yon churchyard,
And wed me with the ring."
"Oh, I do dwell in a churchyard,
But far beyond the sea...
And it is but my Ghost, Margaret,
That speaks now unto thee.
'Tis time, 'tis time, my dear Margaret,
That I was gone away!"
No more the ghost to Margaret came,
With many a grievous groan--
He's vanished out into the mist
And left her there alone.
"Oh stay, my only true love, stay,
My heart you do divide!"
Pale grew her cheeks, she closed her eyes
Stretched out her limbs and died.