The Milking-Pail |
Traditional, The Milk maid's life for earlier lyrics
Ye nymphs and sylvan gods, That love green fields and woods, When spring newly-born herself does adorn, With flowers and blooming buds: Come sing in the praise, while flocks do graze, On yonder pleasant vale, Of those that choose to milk their ewes, And in cold dews, with clouted shoes, To carry the milking-pail.
2. You goddess of the morn, | 3. When cold bleak winds do roar, And flowers will spring no more, The fields that were seen so pleasant and green, With winter all candied o'er, See now the town lass, with her white face, And her lips so deadly pale; But it is not so, with those that go Through frost and snow, with cheeks that glow, And carry the milking-pail.
4. The country lad is free |