| A mother lived by the North Sea shore
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| Daughters were the babes she bore
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| One grew radiant as the sun
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| Darkly grew the elder one
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| A knight came riding to their door
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| He traveled far to be their wooer
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| He courted both with gold and rings
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| But loved the younger o’er all things
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| «Sister, won’t you walk with me
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| To watch the ships sail o’er the sea?»
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| As they walked the rocky shore
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| The dark one pushed her sister o’er
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| «Sister, sister, let me live
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| All that’s mine I’ll surely give»
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| «Thy bridegroom I will take and more
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| But thou shalt never come ashore»
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| Off she floated like a swan
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| The salt sea bore her body on
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| You could not see her lily feet
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| Her golden fringes were so deep
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| A minstrel walking by the strand
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| Saw her body float to land
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| When he looked that lady on
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| He sighed and made a heavy moan
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| He made a harp of her breastbone
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| Whose sound would melt a heart of stone
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| Took the strands of her bright hair
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| And with them strung his harp so rare
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| He brought the harp to the wedding hall
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| There to play before them all
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| When they set it on a stone
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| The harp began to play alone
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| The strings sang out a dreadful sound
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| «The bride her younger sister drowned
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| Now her secret you all know
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| Her guilty tears will surely flow» |