Page:Four songs (6).pdf/7

7

The miller brought a sturdy stick,
And stoutly he laid on;
And soon he made the old man rue
That e'er he came to Dron.
The old man he went toddling home,
As supple as he dought,
And ay he muttered to himsel,
This meal is dearly bought.

At length the old man he came in,
With many a sigh and moan;
I have seen millers many a one,
But none like him in Dron.
He threw the meal pock off his back,
With many an aching bone;
Of all the millers e'er I saw,
There's none like him in Dron.

The mother look'd, the daughter blush'd,
They look'd at one another;
The mother look'd, the daughter blush'd,
And glow'rd at one another.
At length the daughter clapp'd her hands,
And swore that by St. John,
The rogue has kiss'd my father too,
Within the mill of Dron.