aka The Miller And The Lass
Lyrics as sung by Gordon McIntyre on "A Wench a Whale and a Pint of Good Ale" 1966

A brisk young lass, so brisk and gay,
She went down to the mill one day.
To me right fol la, my liddle liddle idle, right fol, right fol ay

She’d a peck of corn all for to grind
But the devil of the miller could she find.
To me right fol la, my liddle liddle idle, right fol, right fol ay

When at last the miller came in
This fair young lass she did begin.
To me right fol la, my liddle liddle idle, right fol, right fol ay

“I’ve a peck of corn all for to grind
And I can but stay a little time.”
To me right fol la, my liddle liddle idle, right fol, right fol ay

“Go sit you down, my sweet pretty dear,
For I cannot grind your corn, I fear.”
To me right fol la, my liddle liddle idle, right fol, right fol ay

Then she sat down all on a sack,
And they talked of this, and they talked of that.
To me right fol la, my liddle liddle idle, right fol, right fol ay

Then an easy up and down,
She scarce could tell when her corn was ground.
To me right fol la, my liddle liddle idle, right fol, right fol ay

“Now go you home, my sweet pretty dear,
For your corn is ground and the mill is clear.”
To me right fol la, my liddle liddle idle, right fol, right fol ay

She swore she’d been ground by a score or more
But never been ground so well before.
To me right fol la, my liddle liddle idle, right fol, right fol ay