“Hold still, my cow, my dearie,
And fill my bucket with milk,
And if you’ll not be contrary
I’ll give you a gown of silk.”
But the cow wouldn’t stand still. “Look at that, now!” said the little boy. “What am I to do with such a contrary cow?”
So off he went to his mother at the house. “Mother,” said he, “the cow won’t stand still, and I can’t milk her.”
“Well,” said his mother, “go to the cow, and tell her there’s a weary, weary lady with long yellow hair sits weeping for a sup of milk.”
Back he ran to the cow and repeated to her his mother’s words, but the cow wouldn’t stand still. Then he went to the house again and told his mother.
“Well,” said his mother, “tell the cow there’s a fine, fine laddie from the wars beside the weary, weary lady with golden hair, who is weeping for a sup of milk.”