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Maggie the Cows Are in the Clover

Circa 1800s
Words and Music By: Al. W. Filson
Copyright Unknown

I love to wander by the brook
That winds among the trees,
And watch the birds flit to and fro
Among the Autumn leaves;
'Tis my delight from morn till night
To ramble on the shore;
But when I do, my mother's voice
Comes from the kitchen door, ...

Maggie! Maggie!

The cows are in the clover,
They've trampled it since morn,
Go and drive them, Maggie,
To the old red barn.
The cows are in the clover,
They've trampled it since morn,
Go and drive them, Maggie,
To the old red barn.

I'm not allowed to have a beau,
Except upon the sly,
So yesterday he came and took me
Walking thro' the rye;
We strolled along so lovingly,
It seemed just like a dream,
When just from out that kitchen door
Came that familiar scream, ...

Maggie! Maggie!

The cows are in the clover,
They've trampled it since morn,
Go and drive them, Maggie,
To the old red barn.
The cows are in the clover,
They've trampled it since morn,
Go and drive them, Maggie,
To the old red barn.

He took me to a country fair,
We went up in a balloon;
Says he to me we'll go and see
The man up in the moon;
We drifted over towards the farm,
Perhaps a mile or more,
When suddenly I heard that voice
Come from the kitchen door, ...

Maggie! Maggie!

The cows are in the clover,
They've trampled it since morn,
Go and drive them, Maggie,
To the old red barn.
The cows are in the clover,
They've trampled it since morn,
Go and drive them, Maggie,
To the old red barn.

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