THE DAWNING OF THE DAY

 

The Dawning of the Day

As I walked out one morning fair
all in the month of June,
each bush and tree was decked in green
and the flowers were in their bloom.
Re turning home all from a walk
through a field I took my way;
I chanced to see a pretty fair maid
at the dawning of the day.

No shoes or stockings,
hat or cloak did that pretty fair maiden wear;
Her hair in golden ringlets hung down
o’er her shoulders fair.
Two milkingpails were in her hands
so jovial and so gay;
She seemed to me like Venus fair
at the dawning of the day.

O where are you going,
my pretty fair maid so soon?
I’m going a milking, sir,
she said,” all in the month of June.
Those pasture fields that I go
to are so, so far away that
I have to be there each morning fair
at the dawning of the day”

There’s time enough, my pretty fair maid,
suppose it were a mile.
Come sit down on those primrose banks
and chat with me awhile.
O no, O no, replied this maid,
to that I can’t obey.
Look around, the skies are breaking clear,
’tis the dawning of the day”

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