There lived an old lord in the North Countree
Oh the wind and rain,
And he had daughters, one two and three
Oh the dreadful wind and rain.
There went a young man a-courting there
He chose the youngest daughter fair
He gave to her a beaver hat
The older she thought much of that.
He gave the youngest a gay gold ring
The older, not a single thing.
He gave the youngest a gay gold ring,
He didn’t give the eldest one a thing,
O sister, O sister come walk with me
To see the ships upon the sea.
But when they reached the water's brim
The oldest pushed the youngest in.
O sister, O sister, O give me your hand
And you may have my house and land.
I will not give you my hand nor my glove
But I will have your own true-love.
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She pushed her into the river to drown,
And watched her as she floated down,
She floated ’till she came to the miller’s pond,
O miller, O miller, there swims a swan,
The miller ran out with his fish-hook,
And fished that fair maid out of the brook,
He left her on the bank to dry,
When a fiddlin’ fool come passing by,
Down the road came the fiddler fair,
Took thirty strands of her long yellow hair,
And he made a fiddle bow of her long yellow hair,
He made a fiddle bow of her long yellow hair,
Made fiddle pegs of her long finger bones,
Made fiddle pegs of her long finger bones,
And he made a little fiddle of her little breast bone,
With a sound that could melt a heart of stone,
But the only, only tune that the fiddle would play,
Was oh the wind and rain,
The only, only tune that the fiddle would play,
Was oh the dreadful wind and rain.
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