Saying, “wishing I never,”
And “wishing I never
Spoke of the grey mare.”
It was in twelve months after, as happened about,
That Roger the miller saw his own true love.
“Good morrow, fair maid, or do you know me?”
“Good morrow, kind sir, I do well,” says she;
“A man of your complexion with long yalla hair,
That wance came a-coorting,
That wance came a-coorting