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.