Caladonia/The Maid of the Mill
THE MAID OF THE MILL.
I've talk'd and prattle'd to fifty fair maids,
And chang'd them as oft, do you see;
I've talk'd, &c.
But of all the fair maids that dance on the green,
The Maid of the Mill for me,
The Maid of the Mill for me.
There's fifty young men have told me fine tales,
And call'd me their fairest she;
There's fifty young men, &c.
But of all the gay youths that sport on the green,
Young Harry's the lad for me,
Young Harry's the lad for me.
Her eyes are as black as the sloe in the hedge,
Her cheek like the blossom in May;
Her eyes, &c.
Her teeth are as white as the new-shorn flock,
Her breath like the new-made hay:
The new-made hay, the new-made hay,
Her breath like the new-made hay.
He's tall and straight, like the poplar tree,
His cheeks are as fresh as a rose;
He's tall and straight, &c.
He looks like a Spuire of high degree,
When dress'd in his Sunday,s cloths,
When dress'd in his Sunday's cloaths.
With hugging and kissing to church we will go,
And be marry'd and lanquish no more;
With hugging and kissing, &c;
The bells they shall ring, and the music shall play,
The Maid of the Mill will ancore,
The Maid of the Mill will ancore.