I may look upon him."

With scornful eye she look-ed down,
Her cheek with laughter swellin';
Whilst all her friends cried out amain,
UNWORTHY BARBARA ALLEN.

When he was dead, and laid in grave,
Her heart was struck with sorrow,
"O mother, mother, make my bed,
For I shall die to-morrow!

"Hard-hearted creature him to slight,
Who lov-ed me so dearly:
O that I had been more kind to him,
When he was alive and near me!"

She, on her deathbed as she lay,
Begged to be buried by him;
And sore repented of the day,
That she did e'er deny him.

"Farewell," she said, "ye maidens all,
And shun the fault I fell in:
Henceforth take warning by the fall
Of cruel Barbara Allen."

SWEET WILLIAM'S GHOST.

There came a ghost to Margaret's door,
With many a grievous groan,
And aye he tirl-ed at the pin;
But answer made she none.

"Is this my father Philip?
Or is't my brother John?
Or is't my true love Willie,
From Scotland new come home?"

"'Tis not thy father Philip;
Nor yet thy brother John:
But 'tis thy true love Willie
From Scotland new come home.

"O sweet Margret! O dear Margret!
I pray thee speak to me:
Give me my faith and troth, Margret,
As I gave it to thee."

"Thy faith and troth thou'se never get,
Of me shalt never win,
Till that thou come within my bower,
And kiss my cheek and chin."

"If I should come within thy bower,
I am no earthly man:
And should I kiss thy rosy lip,
Thy days will not be lang.

"O sweet Margret, O dear Margret,
I pray thee speak to me:
Give me my faith and troth, Margret,
As I gave it to thee."--

"Thy faith and troth thou'se never get,
Of me shalt never win,
Till thou take me to yon kirkyard,
And wed me with a ring."--

"My bones are buried in a kirkyard
Afar beyond the sea,
And it is but my sprite, Margret,
That's speaking now to thee."

She stretch-ed out her lily-white hand,
As for to do her best:
"Hae there your faith and troth, Willie,
God send your soul good rest!"

Now she has kilted her robes of green,
A piece below her knee:
And a' the live-lang winter night
The dead co