Page:Gramachree Molly.pdf/2



S down on Banna's banks I tray'd

one evening in May,

The little birds with blithet notes,

made vocal ev'ry ſpray:

They ſung their little tales of love,

they ſung them o'er and o'er,

'Ah Gramachree ma Colleen ogue,

Ma Molly Aftore.'

The daiſy py'd, and all the ſweets,

the dawn of nature yields,

The primroſe pale, the vi'let blue,

lay ſcatter'd o'er the fields;

Such fragrance in the boſom ſpread,

of her whom I adore,

'Ah Gramachree ma Colleen ogue,

Ma Molly Aſtore.

I laid me down upon the bank,

bewailing my ad fate.

That doom'd me thus a ave to Love,

and cruel Molly's hate.

How can he break an honeſt heart,

that wears her in it's Core,

'Ah Gramachree ma Colleen ogue,

Ma Molly Atore.'

You ſaid you lov'd me, Molly dear,

ah, Why did I believe?