“Oh, where are you going to my pretty little dear
With your red rosy cheeks  and your coal black hair?”
“I'm going a-milking, kind sir,” she answered me,
“And it's Dabbling in the Dew makes the milk maids fair.”

“Oh, may I go with you my pretty little dear
With your red rosy cheeks and your coal black hair?”
“Oh, you may go with me, kind sir,” she answered me,
“For it's Dabbling in the Dew makes the milk maids fair.”

“And say will you marry me my pretty little dear
With your red rosy cheeks and your coal black hair?”
“Oh yes, if you please kind sir,” she answered me,
“For it's Dabbling in the Dew  makes the milk maids fair.”