Lady Alice was sitting in her bower window,

At midnight mending her quoif;

And there she saw as fine a corpse

As ever she saw in her life.

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'What bear ye, what bear ye, ye six men tall?

What bear ye on your shoulders?'

'We bear the corpse of Giles Collins,

An old and true lover of yours.'

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'O, lay him down gently, ye six men tall,

All on the grass so green,

And to-morrow when the sun goes down,

Lady Alice a corpse shall be seen.

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'And bury me in Saint Mary's Church,

All for my love so true;

And make me a garland of marjoram,

And of lemon thyme, and rue.'

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Giles Collins was buried all in the east,

Lady Alice all in the west;

And the roses that grew on Giles Collins's grave,

They reached Lady Alice's breast.

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The priest of the parish he chanced to pass,

And he severed those roses in twain.

Sure never were seen such true lovers before,

Nor e'er will there be again.