Dolly, the Dairymaid

Dolly was a milkmaid,
She wore a big, white smock.
The cowman Darren grabbed her pail
And gave her quite a shock.

“Get your thieving hands off!”
She told the errant swain,
“Or I’ll kick you in the wurzels,
If you do that again.”

“Sweet Dolly,” quoth the herdsman
All full of fire and ice,
“I want to jump the broom with you,
So do say you’ll be nice.”

“I fell for that one last time,
Down at the village dance:
So if you’re wanting me to jump
Don’t think you’ll get the chance.”

“Then come into the dairy
And show me what you’ve got.”
He stretched his big and hairy hands
Towards her creamery pot.

“You’ve had a sample once before,”
She squealed in strident tones,
“And left me only buttermilk
With which to make my scones.”

“Then what about a kiss or two
To keep a herdsman sweet?”
She said, “Alright, I’ll give you one
If you will be discreet.”

An hour later he came out
With holes across his vest;
A pair of white hands grabbed him back
And you can guess the rest.