From Bodleian Library Broadside Ballads, Harding B 11(3815).

THREE MAIDS A-MILKING WOULD GO.
"Williamson, Printer, Newcastle" [c1845]

Three maids a-milking would go.
Three maids a-milking would go.
The wind it blew high. The wind it blew low,
Which toss'd their milkpails to and fro.

They met with a man by the way,
And one of them did to him say,
"Kind sir, have you got any skill,
For to catch us a bird or two?"

"O yes, I have a very great skill.
O yes, I have a very great skill.
If you will go with me to yonder shady tree,
I will catch you a bird to your will."

To yonder shady green grove they went.
To yonder shady green grove they went,
And he catch'd her a bird upon her own ground
As soon as he knew her intent.

Then he set her up against a green tree.
Then he set her up against a green tree,
And he beat the bush and the bird flew in
A little above my love's knee.

Then her sparkling eyes turned round
As if she had been in a swound,
Saying, "I caught a bird, upon my word,
Picking upon its own ground."

This pretty fair maiden she fell sick.
This pretty fair maiden she fell sick.
The bird it stopt up and her apron tuck'd up
Until it was forty weeks old.

Pretty maidens, be ruled by me.
Pretty maidens, be ruled by me.
Never catch a small bird upon the green ground
But catch them upon the green tree.

So here's a health to the bird in the bush,
Likewise to the linnet and the thrush,
For birds of a feather will all flock together,
Let their parents say little or much.

* * *

[I wonder what happened to the other two maids? Is this just a fragment of a longer song?]