"Marry," said King Richard, "if thy singing match thy looks it is fair
enough. Prythee, strike up a ditty and let us have a taste of thy
skill."
Then Allan touched his harp lightly, and all words were hushed while he
sang thus:
"'_Oh, where has thou been, my daughter?
Oh, where hast thou been this day
Daughter, my daughter?'
'Oh, I have been to the river's side,
Where the waters lie all gray and wide,
And the gray sky broods o'er the leaden tide,
And the shrill wind sighs a straining.'
"'What sawest thou there, my daughter?
What sawest thou there this day,
Daughter, my daughter?'
'Oh, I saw a boat come drifting nigh,
Where the quivering rushes hiss and sigh,
And the water soughs as it gurgles by,
And the shrill wind sighs a straining.'
"'What sailed in the boat, my daughter?
What sailed in the boat this day,
Daughter, my daughter?'
'Oh, there was one all clad in white,
And about his face hung a pallid light,
And his eyes gleamed sharp like the stars at night,
And the shrill wind sighed a straining.
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