In a cool and quiet hollow
A millwheel turns around—
My darling once lived yonder,
But now she can’t be found.
She pledged to me her true love
And gave a ring as sign,
But she betrayed that promise—
The ring broke down the line.
I’d roam the world, a minstrel,
And sing from place to place;
Or ride to war on horseback,
To vanish without trace.
I hear the millwheel turning—
I don’t know what I will…
I think I’d rather perish,
And have the world go still.