“Some of them play’d with the water,
  And roll’d it down the hill;
‘And this,’ they said, ’shall speedily turn
  The poor old miller’s mill;

“’For there has been no water
  Ever since the first of May;
And a busy man will the miller be
  At dawning of the day.

“’Oh! the miller, how he will laugh
  When he sees the mill-dam rise! 
The jolly old miller, how he will laugh
  Till the tears fill both his eyes!’

“And some they seized the little winds
  That sounded over the hill;
And each put a horn unto his mouth,
  And blew both loud and shrill;

“‘And there,’ they said, ’the merry winds go
  Away from every horn;
And they shall clear the mildew dank
  From the blind old widow’s corn.

“’Oh! the poor, blind widow,
  Though she has been blind so long,
She’ll be blithe enough when the mildew’s gone,
  And the corn stands tall and strong,’

“And some they brought the brown lint-seed,
  And flung it down from the Low;
‘And this!’ they said, ’by the sunrise,
  In the weaver’s croft shall grow.

“’Oh! the poor, lame weaver,
  How he will laugh outright
When he sees his dwindling flax-field
  All full of flowers by night!’

“And then outspoke a brownie,
  With a long beard on his chin;
‘I have spun up all the tow,’ said he,
  ’And I want some more to spin.

“’I’ve spun a piece of hempen cloth,
  And I want to spin another;
A little sheet for Mary’s bed,
  And an apron for her mother.’

“With that I could not help but laugh,
  And I laugh’d out loud and free;
And then on the top of the Caldon Low
  There was no one left but me.

“And all on the top of the Caldon Low
  The mists were cold and gray,
And nothing I saw but the mossy stones
  That round about me lay.

“But, coming down from the hill-top,
  I heard afar below,
How busy the jolly miller was,
  And how the wheel did go.

“And I peep’d into the widow’s field,
  And, sure enough, were seen
The yellow ears of the mildew’d corn,
  All standing stout and green.

“And down by the weaver’s croft I stole,
  To see if the flax were sprung;
And I met the weaver at his gate,
  With the good news on his tongue.

“Now this is all I heard, mother,
  And all that I did see;
So, pr’ythee, make my bed, mother,
  For I’m tired as I can be.”

OLD CHRISTMAS

Now he who knows old Christmas,
  He knows a carle of worth;
For he is as good a fellow
  As any upon earth.

He comes warm cloaked and coated,
  And buttoned up to the chin;
And soon as he comes a-nigh the door
  We open and let him in.

And with sprigs of holly and ivy
  We make the house look gay,
Just out of an old regard for him,
  For it was his ancient way.