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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.
