The Ewie wi' the Crooked Horn/The Mill, Mill, O

by Anonymous

For other versions of this work, see The Mill, Mill, O.

THE MILL, MILL, O.

Beneath a green shade I fand a fair maid,
Was sleeping sound and still, O;
A' lowan wi' love, my fancy did rove,
Around her wi' good will, O.
Her bosom I prest, but sunk in her rest,
She stirr'd na my joy to spill, O:
While kindly she slept close to her I crept;
And kiss'd, and kiss'd her my fill, O.

Oblig'd by command in Flanders to land,
T' employ my courage and skill, O,
Frae her quietly I staw, hoist sails and awa,
For the wind blew fair on the billow.
Twa years brought me hame, whar loud-raising fame,
Tauld me, wi' a voice right shrill, O,
My lass, like a fool, had mounted the stool,
Nor kend wha had done her the ill, O.

Mair fond o' her charms, wi' my son in her arms,
I ferlying spier'd how she fell, O,
Wi' the tear in her ee, quo' she, let me die,
Sweet Sir, gin I can tell, O
But love gave command, I took her by the hand,
And bade a' her fears dispel, O,
And nae mair look wan, for I was the man,
Wha had done her the deed mysel, O.

My bonay sweet lass, on the gowany grass,
Beneath the shilling Hill, O,
If I did offence, I'se mak ye amends,
Before I leave Peggy's mill, O.
O the mill mill O, and the kill kill O,
And the coggin o' the wheel, O,
The sack and the sieve, a' that ye maun leave,
And round wi' a sodger reel, O.

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