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As I rovèd out oh one evening in spring
To hear the larks whistle and the nightingales sing,
I spied a pretty fair maid under a cow a-milking,
Saying, "I wish that tomorrow was Monday morning."
I steppèd up to her, I made a low jee,
I askèd her pardon for making so free,
I askèd her name oh and where she did dwell.
"Kind sir, I do dwell up on bonny brown hill."
I asked her age and she answered me then,
"I am sixteen years old, sir, next Monday morning."
"Oh sixteen years old is too young to get married,
There is another four years I would have you to tarry,
And p'rhaps at the meantime you will not be sorry,
So it's put off your wedding till Monday morning."
"Oh Sunday night it will be all my care
To comb out my locks and to curl my hair;
My two pretty maidens will put me to bed,
And I'll bid adieu to my sweet maidenhead;
And over to my true love my arms I'll spread,
Here's adieu to all maidens till Monday morning."
Collected in 1958 from Freeman Bennett of St. Paul's, NL, by Kenneth Peacock and published in Songs Of The Newfoundland Outports, Volume 2, p.559, by the National Museum of Canada (1965) Crown Copyrights Reserved.
Kenneth Peacock noted that this charming little love lyric has appeared in several English collections but seems to be rare on this side of the Atlantic.
