CXXX.

Oh, where are you going, My pretty maiden fair, With your red rosy cheeks, And your coal-black hair? I'm going a-milking, Kind sir, says she; And it's dabbling in the dew, Where you'll find me.

May I go with you, My pretty maiden fair, &c. Oh, you may go with me, Kind sir, says she, &c.

If I should chance to kiss you, My pretty maiden fair, &c. The wind may take it off again, Kind sir, says she, &c.

And what is your father, My pretty maiden fair, &c. My father is a farmer, Kind sir, says she, &c.

And what is your mother, My pretty maiden fair, &c. My mother is a dairy-maid, Kind sir, says she, &c.

Polly put the kettle on, Polly put the kettle on, Polly put the kettle on, And let's drink tea.

Sukey take it off again, Sukey take it off again, Sukey take it off again, They're all gone away.