Original

O where are you going so early? he said;

Good luck go with you, my pretty maid;

To tell you my mind Im half afraid,

But I wish I were your sweetheart.

When the morning sun is shining low,

And the cocks in every farmyard crow,

I'll carry your pail,

O'er hill and dale,

And I'll go with you a-milking.

I'm going a-milking, sir, says she,

Through the dew, and across the lea;

You ne'er would even yourself to me,

Or take me for your sweetheart.

When the morning sun, &c.

Now give me your milking-stool awhile,

To carry it down to yonder stile;

I'm wishing every step a mile,

And myself your only sweetheart.

When the morning sun, &c.

O, here's the stile in-under the tree,

And there's the path in the grass for me,

And I thank you kindly, sir, says she,

And wish you a better sweetheart.

When the morning sun, &c.

Now give me your milking-pail, says he,

And while were going across the lea,

Pray reckon your master's cows to me,

Although I'm not your sweetheart.

When the morning sun, &c.

Two of them red, and two of them white,

Two of them yellow and silky bright,

She told him her master's cows aright,

Though he was not her sweetheart.

When the morning sun, &c.

She sat and milk'd in the morning sun,

And when her milking was over and done,

She found him waiting, all as one

As if he were her sweetheart.

When the morning sun, &c.

He freely offer'd his heart and hand;

Now she has a farm at her command,

And cows of her own to graze the land;

Success to all true sweethearts!

When the morning sun is shining low,

And the cocks in every farmyard crow,

I'll carry your pail

O'er hill and dale,

And I'll go with you a-milking,

—-Wm. Allingham.