Sweet William to his ladye said,--
"Alas I have cause to weep.

"I dreamt a dream, my dear ladye,--
Such dreams are never good,--
I dreamt my bower was full of red swine,
And the walls ran down with blood."

He called up his merrymen all,
By one, by two, and by three;
Saying, "I'll away to fair Margaret's bower,
By the leave of my ladye."

And when he came to fair Margaret's bower,
He knocked at the ring;
And who so ready as her seven brethren,
To let sweet William in.

He turned down the covering-sheet,
To see the face of the dead;
"Methinks she looks all pale and wan;
She hath lost her cherry red.

"I would do more for thee, Margaret,
Than would any of thy kin.
And I will kiss thy pale cold lips,
Though a smile I cannot win."

With that bespake the seven brethren,
Making most piteous moan,