George Butterworth — Roving in the dew

“Oh where are you going to, my pretty fair maid, red, rosy cheeks and coal-black hair?” “I'm a-going a-milking, kind sir,” she answered me “For rolling in the dew makes the milkmaid fair.” "What is your father then, my pretty fair maid, red, rosy cheeks and coal-black hair?" "My father's a farmer, kind sir" she answered me "For rolling in the dew makes the milkmaid fair." "What is your mother then, my pretty fair maid, red, rosy cheeks and coal-black hair?" "The wife of my father, kind sir" she answered me “For rolling in the dew makes the milkmaid fair.” "May I comе along with you, my pretty fair maid, red, rosy cheeks and coal-black hair?" "Just as it pleasе you, kind sir" she answered me “For rolling in the dew makes the milkmaid fair.” "Suppose I ran away from you, my pretty fair maid, red, rosy cheeks and coal-black hair" "The Devil may ran after, I'll stand and laugh at you. For rolling in the dew makes the milkmaid fair.”