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It was on a fine summer's morning,
When the birds sweetly tuned on each bough,
I heard a fair maid sing most charming,
As she sat a-milking her cow.
Her voice it was chanting, melodious,
She left me scarce able to go;
My heart it is soothed in solace,
For my pretty maid milking her cow.
With courtesy I did salute her,
"Good morrow, most amiable maid;
I'm your captive slave for the future."
"Kind sir, do not banter," she said.
"I'm not such a precious rare jewel,
That I should enamour you so;
I am but a plain country girl," says Colleen,
My pretty maid milking her cow.
"The Indies afford no such jewels,
So precious and transparently fair;
Oh, do not to my flame add fuel,
But consent for to love me, my dear.
Take pity and grant my desire,
And leave me no longer in woe;
Oh, love me or else I'll expire, sweet Colleen,
My pretty maid milking her cow.
"Oh, had I the wealth of a pharoah,
Or aIl down the African shore;
Oh, had I great Devonshire treasures,
Or had I ten thousand times more.
Oh, had I the lamp of Alladdin,
Or had I a genie also;
l'd rather live poor on a mountain,
With my Colleen, a-milking her cow."
"I beg you withdraw and don't tease me,
I cannot consent unto thee;
I like to live single and airy,
Till more of the world I do see.
New cares they would me only embarrass,
Besides, sir, my fortune is low,
Until I get rich I'll not marry,"
Says my Colleen, a-milking her cow.
"An old maid is like an old Almanac,
Quite useless when once out of date;
If her ware is not sold in the morning,
At noon it must fall to low rate.
The fragrance of May is soon over,
The rose loses its beauty, you know;
All bloom is consumed in October, sweet Colleen,
My pretty maid milking her cow."
Collected in 1951 from Michael Murphy of Trepassey, NL, and published in MacEdward Leach And The Songs Of Atlantic Canada © 2004 Memorial University of Newfoundland Folklore and Language Archive (MUNFLA).
