Where are you going to, my fair, pretty maid,
With your red and rosy cheeks and your nut-brown hair ?
I'm going a-milking, kind sir, she answered me,
And it's rolling in the dew makes a milkmaid fair.
Shall I go along with you, my fair, pretty maid,
With your red and rosy cheeks and your nut-brown hair ?
Yes, you're kindly welcome, kind sir, she answered me,
And it's rolling in the dew makes a milkmaid fair.
Supposing I should lay you down, my fair, pretty maid,
With your red and rosy cheeks and your nut-brown hair ?
Then you must help me up again, kind sir, she answered me,
And it's rolling in the dew makes a milkmaid fair.
Supposing you should prove with child, my fair, pretty maid,
With your red and rosy cheeks and your nut-brown hair ?
Then you shall be the father of it, sir, she answered me,
And it's rolling in the dew makes a milkmaid fair.
Supposing I should run away, my fair, pretty maid,
With your red and rosy cheeks and your nut-brown hair ?
The devil would run after you, kind sir, she answered me,
And it's rolling in the dew makes a milkmaid fair.