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.