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