Cauld Is My Bed, Lord Archibald

CAULD is my bed, Lord Archibald,
And sad my sleep of sorrow :
But thine sail be as sad and cauld,
My fause true-love ! to-morrow.

And weep ye not, my maidens free,
Though death your mistress borrow;
For he for whom I die to-day,
Shall die for me to-morrow.