I think this may be what you are after.


THE MAID IN THE CALICO DRESS

1. In flowery July upon Healey's proud heights,
As the plovers come from the moor end,
And southward the cuckoo is taking his flight
And the corncrakes are deep in the grass,
A swallow and swift were aloft in the air
And a starling was feeding her young.
The milkmaid was tending her cattle with care,
And the haymakers cheerfully sung.

CHORUS: The maidens of Burnley in satin or silk
Are pretty I freely confess,
But give me the maid who is neatly arrayed
In a beautiful calico dress.

2. You may praise the Italian ladies in vain
And the maidens of France or Peru,
Or worship the languishing beauties of Spain
And the blushing Caucasians too;
But she whom I love has an eye like a sloe
And her cheeks are like roses in June;
So graceful each step as she trips like a doe
And her ruby red lips are in tune.

3. Should fortune or friendship compel me to roam,
Or a thirst after changes constrain,
I'd still call the banks of old Healey my home
And I'd sing of its beauties again.
Sweet gardens of roses or our cultured bowers
May delight a poor soul to possess,
But give me old Healey bedecked with wild flowers
And the maid in the calico dress.