Poem by Matthew Gregory Lewis

The Banks of Allan Water

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 was gay as she.

On the banks of Allan Water,
	When brown autumn shed its 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 was sad as she.

On the banks of Allan Water,
	When the winter-snow fell fast, 
Still was found 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 corpse lay she.

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