The Spinning Wheel
As I sat at my spinning wheel,
A handsome lad was passing by;
I viewed him round,
and liked him well,
For truth he had a glancing eye,
My heart now panting 'gan to feel,
But still I turned the spinning wheel.
With looks all kindness he drew near,
And still more lovely did appear,
And round about my slender waist,
He clasped his arms,
and me embraced,
To kiss my hand,
he down did kneel,
As I sat at my spinning-wheel.
My milk-white hands he did extol,
And praised my fingers long and small,
And said there was no lady fair,
That ever could with me compare:
Those words into my heart did steal,
But still I turned my spinning-wheel.
Although I seemingly did chide,
Yet he would never be denied;
But still declared his love the more,
Until my heart was wounded sore;
That my love could scarce conceal,
Yet still I turned my spinning-wheel
My hanks of yarn, my rock and reel,
My winnels and my spinning-wheel;
He bid me leave them all with speed,
And go with him to yonder mead;
My yielding heart strange flames did feel
Yet still I turned my spinning-wheel
About my neck his arm he laid,
And whispered: Rise, my bonny maid,
And with me to that hay cock go,
I'll teach you better work to do;
In truth I lov'd the motion well,
And let alone my spinning-wheel.
Among the pleasant cocks of hay,
There with my bonny lad I lay.
What lass, so young and soft as I,
Could such a handsome lad deny?
These pleasures I cannot reveal,
That far surpass the spinning-wheel.
Old folksong - Author unknown
