The Cruel Sister

There lived a lady by the North Sea shore. Two daughters were the babes she bore. One grew as fair as in the sun. So cold, dark, grew the elder one.

A knight came riding to the ladies' door. He traveled far to be their wooer. He courted one with gloves and rings, But the other he loved above all things.

"Oh, sister, sister won't you walk with me To see the ships sail o'er sea?" And as they walked the windy shore, The dark girl pushed her sister o'er.

Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam, Crying, "Sister, reach to me your hand! Oh sister, sister please let me live, And all that's mine I'll surely give!"

"It's your own true love I want, and more That thou shalt never come ashore!" And as she floated like a swan, The salt sea bore her body on.

Two minstrels walked by the windy strand. They saw her body float to land. They made a harp of her breast bone Who's sound would melt a heart of stone.

They took three strands of her yellow hair And with them strung this harp so rare. They took this harp to her father's hall There to play before them all.

But when they set the harp upon a stone, It began to play alone. The first song sang a doleful sound, "The bride her younger sister drowned!"

The second string, when this they tried, In terror sits the black haired bride. The third string sang beneath their bow, "And now her tears will surely flow!"