True love, as I gied them to thee."

"Your faith and troth ye sall never get,
Nor our true love sall never twin,
Until ye come within my bower,
And kiss me cheek and chin."

"My mouth it is full cold, Margaret,
It has the smell now of the ground;
And if I may kiss thy comely mouth,
Thy days will soon be at an end.

"O, cocks are crowing a merry midnight;
I wot the wild fowls are boding day.
Give me my faith and troth again,
And let me fare me on my way."

"Thy faith and troth thou sall na get,
And our true love sall never twin,
Until ye tell wha' comes o' women,
Wot ye, who die in strong traivelling?"

"Their beds are made in the heavens high,
Down at the foot of our good Lord's knee,
Weel set about wi' gillyflowers;
I wot, sweet company for to see.

"O, cocks are crowing a merry midnight;
I wot the wild fowls are boding day;
The psalms of heaven will soon be sung,