Classic Poem

On the banks of Allan Water,
When the sweet spring-time did fall,
Was the miller's lovely daughter,
— Fairest of them all.

For his bride a soldier sought her,
And a winning tongue had he,
On the banks of Allan Water,
— None so gay as she.

On the banks of Allan Water,
When brown autumn spread his store,
There I saw the miller's daughter,
— But she smiled no more.

For the summer grief had brought her,
And the soldier false was he,
On the banks of Allan Water,
— None so sad as she.

On the banks of Allan Water,
When the winter snow fell fast,
Still was seen the miller's daughter,
— Chilling blew the blast.

But the miller's lovely daughter,
Both from cold and care was free;
On the banks of Allan Water,
— There a corse lay she.