It was on a fine summer's morning The birds sweetly tune on each bough And as I walked out for my pleasure I saw a maid milking a cow Her voice was so enchanting, melodious Left me quite unable to go My heart, it was loaded with sorrow For the pretty maid milking her cow Then to her I made my advances "Good morrow most beautiful maid Your beauty my heart so entrances" "Pray sir do not banter," she said "I'm not such a rare precious jewel That I should enamour you so I am but a poor little milk girl," Says the pretty maid milking her cow The Indies afford no such jewel So bright, so transparently clear I do not add things to my funeral Consent but to know me my dear Oh, had I the Lamp of Aladdin Or the wealth that gold mines can bestow I'd rather be poor in a cottage With the pretty girl milking her cow.
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