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.