3
She offered the miller a gold ring stane
To throw her into the river again.
4
Down she sunk, and away she swam,
Until she came to her father's brook.
5
The miller was hung at his mill-gate,
For drowning of my sister Kate.
T.
Allingham's Ballad Book, p. xxxiii. From Ireland.
'Sister, dear sister, where shall we go play?'
Cold blows the wind, and the wind blows low
'We shall go to the salt sea's brim.'
And the wind blows cheerily around us, high ho
U.
Communicated by Mr W.W. Newell, as repeated by an ignorant woman in her dotage, who learned it at Huntington, Long Island, N.Y.
1
There was a man lived in the mist,
Bow down, bow down
He loved his youngest daughter best.
The bow is bent to me,
So you be true to your own true love,
And I'll be true to thee.
2
These two sisters went out to swim;
The oldest pushed the youngest in.