PR Website - Earl Brand

'SLEEPST thou or wakst thou, Lord Montgomerie, Sleepst thou or wakst thou, I say? Rise up, make a match for your eldest daughter, For the youngest I carry away.'
'Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons, Dress yourselves in the armour sae fine; For it ne'er shall be said that a churlish knight Eer married a daughter of mine.'

'Loup aff, loup aff, Lady Margaret,' he said, 'And hold my steed in your hand, And I will go fight your seven brethren, And your father, where they stand.'
Sometimes she gaed, sometimes she stood, But never dropt a tear, Until she saw her brethren all slain, And her father who lovd her so dear.
'Hold thy hand, sweet William,' she says, 'Thy blows are wondrous sore; Sweethearts I may have many a one, But a father I'll never have more.'
O she's taken her napkin frae her pocket, Was made o the holland fine, And ay as she dichted her father's bloody wounds, They sprang as red as the wine.
'Two chooses, two chooses, Lady Margret,' he says, 'Two chooses I'll make thee; Whether to go back to your mother again, Or go along with me.'
'For to go home to my mother again, An unwelcome guest I'd be; But since my fate has ordered it so, I'll go along with thee.'
He has mounted her on a milk-white steed, Himself on the dapple gray, And blawn his horn baith loud and shill, And it sounded far on their way.
They rode oer hill, they rode oer dale, They rode oer mountains so high, Until they came to that beautiful place Where Sir William's mother did lie.
'Rise up, rise up, lady mother,' he said, 'Rise up, and make much o your own; Rise up, rise up, lady mother,' he said, 'For his bride's just new come home.'
Sir Willian he died in the middle o the night, Lady Margaret died on the morrow; Sir William he died of pure pure love, Lady Margaret of grief and sorrow.