There dwelt a miller, hale and bold, Beside the river Dee; He worked and sang from morn till night— No lark more blithe than he; And this the burden of his song Forever used to be: “I envy nobody—no, not I— And nobody envies me!” “Thou’rt wrong, my friend,” said good King Hal, “As wrong as wrong can be; For could my heart be light as thine, I’d gladly change with thee. And tell me now, what makes thee sing, With voice so loud and free, While I am sad, though I’m a king, Beside the river Dee?” The miller smiled and doffed his cap, “I earn my bread,” quoth he; “I love my wife, I love my friend, I love my children three; I owe no penny I cannot pay; I thank the river Dee That turns the mill that grinds the corn That feeds my babes and me.” “Good friend,” said Hal, and sighed the while, “Farewell, and happy be; But say no more, if thou’dst be true, That no one envies thee; Thy mealy cap is worth my crown, Thy mill my kingdom’s fee; Such men as thou are England’s boast, O miller of the Dee!” —Charles Mackay. |