Francesco Turrisi ft. Rhiannon Giddens - Little Margaret

LITTLE MARGARET (Traditional) Little Margaret, sitting in her high hall chair Combing back her long, yellow hair, She saw sweet William and his new-made bride Riding up the road so near. She threw down her ivory comb, Threw back her long yellow hair, Said, "I'll go down and I'll bid him farewell And I'll nevermore go there." It was late in the night, They were fast asleep, Little Margaret appeared all dressed in white Standing at their bed-feet. Saying, "How do you like your snow-white pillow? How do you like your sheet?" Saying, "How do you like that pretty fair maid Who lays in your arms asleep?" "Very well do I like my snow-white pillow, Well do I like my sheet. Much better do I like that pretty fair maid Who stands at my bed-feet." He called his serving man to go And saddled the dappled roan, And he rode for her father's house that night, Knocked on the door alone. Saying, "Is Little Margaret in her room Or is she in the hall?" "Little Margaret's in her coal-black coffin With her face turned toward the wall." Unfold, unfold those snow-white robes, Be they ever so fine, For I want to kiss those cold, cold lips For I know they'll never kiss mine. Three times he kissed her cold, cold hand, Twice he kissed her cheek, But once he kissed her cold, cold lips Then he fell in her arms asleep.