hat cry above the forest,
And surely cry to thee."

"I go, my dearest Father,
But O! I sadly fear,
These doves so white will lead me far,
But never bring me near."

'He kisses the Miller,
He cries, "Awhoop to ye!"
And straightway through the forest
Follows the wood-doves three.

'There came a sound of weeping
To the Miller in his Mill;
Red roses in a thicket
Bloomed over near his wheel;

'Three stars shone wild and brightly
Above the forest dim:
But never his dearest son
Returns again to him.

'The cuckoo shall call "Cuckoo!"
In vain along the vale,
The linnet, and the blackbird,
The mournful nightingale;

'The Miller hears and sees not,
A-thinking of his son;
His toppling wheel is silent;
His grinding done.

'"Ye doves so white," he weepeth,
"Ye roses on the tree,
Ye stars that shine so brightly,
Ye shine in vain for me!"

'I bade him follow, follow,
He said, "O Father dear,
These doves so white will lead me far
But never bring me near!"'

A twangling harp for Mary,
A silvery flute for John,
And now we'll play the livelong day,
'The Miller and his Son.'

DOWN-ADOWN-DERRY

Down-adown-derry,
Sweet Annie Maroon,
Gathering daisies
In the meadows of Doone,
Sees a white fairy
Skip buxom and free
Where the waters go brawling
In rills to the sea;
Singing down-adown-derry.

Down-adown-derry,
Sweet Annie Maroon
Through the green grasses
Runs fleetly and soon,
And lo! on a lily
She sees one recline
Whose eyes in her wee face
Like the water-sparks shine;
Singing down-adown-derry.

Down-adown-derry,
And shrill was her tune:--
'Come to my water-house,
Annie Maroon,
Come in your pink gown,
Your curls on your head,
To wear the white samite
And rubies instead';
Singing down-adown-derry.

'Down-adown-derry,
Lean fish of the sea,
Bring lanthorns for feasting
The gay Faerie;
And it's dancing on sand 'tis
That's smoother than wool;--
Foam-fruit and wild honey
To pleasure you full';
Singing down-adown-derry.

Down-adown-derry,
Sweet Annie Maroon
Looked large on the fairy
Curled wan as the moon;
And all the grey ri