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.