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 jewel
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 jewel
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