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 girl 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 j**el
That I should enamor you so
I am but a poor little milk girl"
Says the pretty girl milking her cow
"The Indies afford no such j**el
So bright, so transparently clear
Ah do not add flames 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 would rather be poor in a cottage
With the pretty girl milking her cow