Oh, Who is at My Bedroom Window?

Oh, who is at my bedroom window,
Disturbing me from my night's rest?
It is, it is your own true lover,
The very one that you love best.

Go Maggie dear, go ask your father,
See if our wedding bride may be.
If he says "No", love, come and tell me,
And I'll no longer troubled be.

It is no use of asking father,
For he is on his bed of rest,
And by his side a silver dagger
To stab the one that he loves best.

Go, Maggie dear, go ask your mother,
See if our wedding bride may be.
If she says "No", love, come and tell me,
And I'll no longer troubled be.

It is no use of asking mother
For she is on to set us free.
You'd better go and court some other
For you cannot marry me.

I can climb the highest mountain
I can rob the eagle's nest,
I can court some other,
But you're the one that I love best.

She drew the dagger from her pocket
And buried it deep, deep in her breast;
Sang adieu to her cruel parents
I'll die with the one that I love best.

He drew the dagger from her bosom
And buried it deep, deep in his breast
Sang adieu to her cruel parents
And she died with the one that she loved best.

DT #327
Laws M4
From Folk Songs of the Americas, Lloyd and Rivera (Canada)
Note: A splendid muddle of almost-comprehended phrases.
Three cheers (chairs?) for the Folk Process RG
RG