The Black-bird/The Banks of Banna

by Anonymous

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.

 

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