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.