[2]
GRAMACHREE MOLLY.
AS down on Banna's banks I ſtray'd
one evening in May,
The little birds with blitheſt 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 ſad fate.
That doom'd me thus a ſave to Love,
and cruel Molly's hate.
How can ſhe break an honeſt heart,
that wears her in it's Core,
'Ah Gramachree ma Colleen ogue,
Ma Molly Aſtore.'
You ſaid you lov'd me, Molly dear,
ah, Why did I believe?
