( 68 ) THE DAIRY MAID.
'Y maid Mary, fhe minds her dairy,
While I go a hoeing and mowing each morn, Merrily runs the reel, and the little fpinning wheel,
While I am finging among the corn, Cream and kifles ait- my delight, And that me affords me with joy at night, She's as frefh as the air in the morning fo fair, There's none like my love to give fweet delight.
I rife in the morning when day is juft dawning, The dairy maid me is a milking her cow,
While the birds are a finging, the flowers are fpringing,. To make a fweet fyllabub fhe knows how.
The dairy maid fhe is the theme of my fong,
So merrily we pafs the day along,
While the cock is a crowing, the cows are lowing,
And primrofes grow all round the farm.
While I whittle me trims the thiftle,
To get her foft down to make her a bed,
There my love (hall lay all the long night and day,
In the kind arms of her own dear love.
There mall fhe tafte of a delicate fpring,
I dare not to tell you nor name the thing,
It will fet you a wifhing, a wifliing and thinking,
For kilfing brings fighing when we fliould fing.
Banks of rufhes, and tops of green bufhes, jftc'Orn our houfe tho' we are poor, All the long fun mer day, I with my love will play, Konebut my Polly I will adore. Lambkins when they die, Their fleece fhall make blankets for Polly and I, . With garlands of rofes, and [une blown pofies, So fweet my lime love ihaiilie,
THRO'
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