15
Sometimes she sunk, and sometimes she swam,
Until she came to the miller's dam.
16
'O father, father, draw your dam,
There's either a mermaid or a milk-white swan.'
17
The miller hasted and drew his dam,
And there he found a drowned woman.
18
You could not see her yellow hair,
For gowd and pearls that were sae rare.
19
You could na see her middle sma,
Her gowden girdle was sae bra.
20
A famous harper passing by,
The sweet pale face he chanced to spy.
21
And when he looked that ladye on,
He sighed and made a heavy moan.
22
He made a harp of her breast-bone,
Whose sounds would melt a heart of stone.
23
The strings he framed of her yellow hair,
Whose notes made sad the listening ear.
24
He brought it to her father's hall,
And there was the court assembled all.