Could pipe, and fish, and wrestle, throw a net,
Turn drinking cups, and teach young dogs to set.
Brawny, big-bon'd, strong made was every limb,
But few durft venture to contend with him.
A dagger hanging at his belt he had,
Made of an ancient sword's well-temper'd blade.
He wore a Sheffield whittle in his hose.
Broad was his face, and very flat his nose ;
Bald as an ape behind was this man's crown,
No one could better beat a market down.
But millers will be thieves; he us'd to steal,
Slyly, and artfully, much corn, and meal.
This miller's wife came of a better race,
The parson's daughter of the town she was.
Her portion smal', 'her education high,
She had her breeding in a nunnery.
Whoc'er he marry'd (Simkin boldly said)
Should be a maid, well born, and nicely bred.
You'd laugh to see him in his best array,
Strutting before her on a holy day.
If any boldly durst accoft his wife,
He drew his dagger, or his Sheffield knife.
'Tis dang'rous to provoke a jealous fool';
She manag'd cunningly her stubborn tool.