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Miller O' Dron

  • (Trad)

       Well it's easy, queasy, saft and easy
       Ay, the mill gae'd on
       O' a' the millers e'er I saw
       There's nane like him o' Dron

    There was a miller lived in Dron
    And he was fed on beef and brose
    Wi' sturdy limbs and shoulders broad
    As you may well suppose
    The miller was a sturdy loon
    That ever hung a stone
    And he's ta'en his suit a' different ways
    As the wives kent weel at Dron

    Noo the lassie she gae'd tae the mill
    Wi' corn upon her heid
    Sayin', Miller, would your stones still work
    For we are oot o' breid
    He took this fair maid in his arms
    And in motion put his stones
    And clink and clank then went the mill
    Wi' a' the grind o' Dron
    Noo the lassie she comes skippin' hame
    A' fu' o' joy an' glee
    Gin she had jointed on springs
    Nae suppler could she be
    She threw the meal-pock aff her back
    She cried, Mither, mak' a scone
    O' a' the millers e'er I saw
    There's nane like him o' Dron

    Noo the auld wife when the corn was done
    Gae'd tae the mill hersel'
    And quickly tae the miller
    She began her needs tae tell
    He laid her doon upon her back
    And in motion put his stones
    An' there he grind the auld wife's batch
    Wi' a' the grind o' Dron
    Noo the auld wife she cam' skippin' hame
    As canty as a bee
    Sayin', Lassie, put the kettle on
    For we must hae some tea
    She threw the meal-pock aff her back
    An' began tae dance an' croon
    O' a' the millers e'er I saw
    There's nane like him o' Dron

    But when the auld man heard o' this
    He set upon his wife
    The daughter she did intercede
    Tae save her mither's life
    The auld man he did thump them baith
    And he never mind their moan
    And he made them promise faithfully
    Nae mair tae gang tae Dron

    But they did nae lang their promise keep
    They wearied sair for John(?)
    And when the auld man went fae hame
    They baith gae'd doon tae Dron
    An' there he tak's them ain by ain
    An' he eased them o' their moan
    An' ay, he grinds their multure free
    Wi' a' the grind o' Dron

    (as sung by Cilla Fisher)

    multure - a tax paid on the milling of flour

Susannes Folksong-Notizen

Quelle: Scotland

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Henry
 Sammlung : Susanne Kalweit (Kiel)
Layout : Henry Kochlin  (Schwerin)

aktualisiert am 28.05.2002