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The Pretty Maid Milking her Cow.
IT was on a fine summer’s morning,
as birds sweetly sung in each bow,
I heard a fair Maid sweetly singing,
as she sat milking her Cow.
She sung with a voice so me'o ious,
that made me scarce able to go!
My heart it was smother'd with sorrow,
by the pretty Maid milking her Cow.
I courteously thus did salute her
Good-morrow fair amorous maid,
I'm your captive slave for the future
Kind Sir do not banter, she said.
I'm not such a precious jewel,
that you could remember me so;
I'm but a plain country girl
said the pretty Maid milking her Cow.
All India can afford no such jewel,
so charming or transparent fair!
Pray do not add flames to my fuel,
but consent and love me, my dear!
