Song
What a dainty life the milkmaid leads!
When over the flowery meads
She dabbles in the dew,
And sings to her cow;
And feels not the pain
Of love or disdain:
She sleeps in the night though she toils in the day,
And merrily passeth her time away.
What a dainty life the milkmaid leads!
When over the flowery meads
She dabbles in the dew,
And sings to her cow;
And feels not the pain
Of love or disdain:
She sleeps in the night though she toils in the day,
And merrily passeth her time away.
When over the flowery meads
She dabbles in the dew,
And sings to her cow;
And feels not the pain
Of love or disdain:
She sleeps in the night though she toils in the day,
And merrily passeth her time away.
What a dainty life the milkmaid leads!
When over the flowery meads
She dabbles in the dew,
And sings to her cow;
And feels not the pain
Of love or disdain:
She sleeps in the night though she toils in the day,
And merrily passeth her time away.
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