The Black-bird/The Banks of Banna
For works with similar titles, see Banks of Banna.
The Banks of Banna.
As down on Banna’s banks I stray’d, one evening in May,The little birds, in blythest notes, made vocal ev’ry spray;They sung their little notes of love, they sung them o’er and o’er;Ah! gramachree, mo, challeenouge, mo Molly astore.
The daisy pied, 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 lies of her whom I adore: Ah! gramachree, &c.
I laid me down upon a bank, bewailing my sad fate,That doom’d me thus the slave of love, and cruel Molly’s hate.How can she break the honest heart, that wears her in it’s core? Ah! gramachree, &c.
You said, you lov'd me, Molly dear: Ah! why did I believe?Yes, who could think such tender ⟨words⟩ were meant but to deceive?That love was all I ask’d on earth, no one could give me more: Ah! gramachree, &c.
Oh! had I all the flocks that graze on yonder yellow hill,Or fow'll for me the num'rous herds, that yon green pastures fill,With her I love I’d gladly share my time and fleecy store: Ah! gramachree, &c.
Two turtle doves, above my head, sat courting on a bough;I envy'd them their happiness, to see them bill and coo;Such fondness once for me she shew’d, but now, alas! 'tis o’er: Ah! gramschree, &c.
Then fare thee well, my Molly dear, thy loss I still shall moan;Whilst life remains in Strephon's heart, ’twill beat for thee alone:Tho' thou art false, may Heav'n on thee it’s choleest blessings pour: Ah! gramachree, &c.