A Pretty Girl Milking Her Cow - Celtic Guitar

Hello, this is my rendition of Duck Baker's fabulous arrangement of A Pretty Girl Milking Her Cow. This Irish-Gaelic Title is a traditional 18th-century Irish Ballad attributed to Thomas Moore (1779-1852). Originally sung in Irish-Gaelic, the song was popular through the early 20th century.
Upon uploading I learned that this beautiful song also has lyrics. From wiki:
It was on a fine summers morning,
The birds sweetly tuned on each bough,
And as I walked out for my pleasure,
I saw a pretty girl milking her cow;
Her voice so enchanting, melodious,
Left me quite unable to go,
My heart it was loaded with sorrow,
For cailín deas crúite na mbó.

Then to her I made my advances;
"Good morrow, most beautiful maid,
Your beauty my heart so entrances!--"
"Pray sir, do not banter," she said;
"I'm not such a rare precious jewel,
That I should enamour you so,
I am but a poor little milk girl,"
Says cailín deas crúite na mbó.

"The Indies afford no such jewels,
So precious and transparently fair,
Oh ! do not to my flame add fuel,
But consent for to love me my dear,
Take pity and grant my desire,
And leave me no longer in woe,
Oh ! love me or else I'll expire,
Sweet cailín deas crúite na mbó.

"Or had I the wealth of great Damer,
Or all on the African shore,
Or had I great Devonshire treasure,
Or had I ten thousand times more,
Or had I the lamp of Alladin,
Or had I his genie also,
I'd rather live poor on a mountain,
With cailín deas crúite na mbó."

"I'll beg you'll withdraw and don't tease me
I cannot consent unto thee,
I like to live single and airy,
Till more of the world I do see,
New cares they would me embarass
Besides, sir, my fortune is low,
Until I get rich I'll not marry,"
Says cailín deas crúite na mbó.

"An old maid is like an old almanack,
Quite useless when once out of date,
If her ware is not sold in the morning,
At noon it must fall to low rate,
The fragrance of May is soon over,
The rose loses its beauty you know,
All bloom is consumed in October,
Sweet cailín deas crúite na mbó.

"A young maid is like a ship sailing,
There's no knowing how long she may steer,
For with every blast she's in danger,
Oh consent love and banish all care,
For riches I care not a farthing,
Your affection I want and no more,
In comfort I'd wish to enjoy you,
My cailín deas crúite na mbó.

Thanks for listening, I wish you all the very best!