Jolly miller


Verse 1

I live at the mill, at the foot of the hill,
Where the stream runs rippling by,
And for ten miles around, there cannot be found,
A merrier fellow than I.
For I laugh and I sing, and drive away care,
I've enough for my wants and a little spare,
And if any old friend should pass my way,
I'll make him as welcome as the flowers in May.

Verse 2

The jolly old mill, it stands there still,
As it did in my father's time,
Who often used to sing to me,
This little bit of rhyme.
"Remember my boy, don't turn up your nose,
At poorer people in plainer clothes,
But think, for the sake of your mind's repose,
That life's but a bubble that comes and goes."

Verse 3

I have never seen the pleasure yet,
Of dressing very loud,
I think there's little good to be got,
In looking very proud,
Or passing over when you meet,
Some old acquaintance in the street,
I may be wrong, but then, you know,
It is always the style of the miller, just so.

Verse 4

You know I always think it best,
To pay your tailor's bill,
And pay your wrong and injury
With good instead of ill;
In fact, I think it best to do,
As you'd have other do to you,
I may be wrong, but then you know,
It is always the style of the miller, just so.