 | Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover |  |
153
MOLLY BAWN.
O! Molly Bawn, why leave me pining,
All lonely waiting here for you?
The stars above are brightly shining
Because—they've nothing else to do.
The flowers, late, were open keeping,
To try a rival blush with you,
But their mother, Nature, set them sleeping,
With their rosy faces wash'd—with dew.
O! Molly, &c.
All lonely waiting here for you?
The stars above are brightly shining
Because—they've nothing else to do.
The flowers, late, were open keeping,
To try a rival blush with you,
But their mother, Nature, set them sleeping,
With their rosy faces wash'd—with dew.
O! Molly, &c.
Now the pretty flowers were made to bloom, dear,
And the pretty stars were made to shine,
And the pretty girls were made for the boys, dear,
And maybe you were made for mine!
The wicked watch-dog here is snarling—
He takes me for a thief, you see;
For he knows I'd steal you, Molly darling—
And then transported I should be.
O! Molly, &c.
And the pretty stars were made to shine,
And the pretty girls were made for the boys, dear,
And maybe you were made for mine!
The wicked watch-dog here is snarling—
He takes me for a thief, you see;
For he knows I'd steal you, Molly darling—
And then transported I should be.
O! Molly, &c.
| Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover | |