6
'O sister dear, come tak my hand,
Take my life safe to dry land,'
At, etc.
7
'It's neer by my hand thy hand sall come in,
It's neer by my hand thy hand sall come in,
At, etc.
8
'It's thy cherry cheeks and thy white briest bane
Gars me set a maid owre lang at hame.'
9
She clasped her hand about a brume rute,
But her cruel sister she lowsed them out.
10
Sometimes she sank, and sometimes she swam,
Till she cam to the miller's dam.
11
The miller's bairns has muckle need,
They were bearing in water to bake some breid.
12
Says, 'Father, dear father, in our mill-dam,
It's either a fair maid or a milk-white swan.'
13
The miller he's spared nae his hose nor his shoon
Till he brocht this lady till dry land.
14
I wad he saw na a bit o her feet,
Her silver slippers were made so neat.
15
I wad he saw na a bit o her skin,
For ribbons there was mony a ane.