5
Oh thou enchanting Molly cook,
Too lonely enduring fair.
Who on thy bill of fare could look,
And yet to love forbear.
One day the sailor he came there,
Rigg'd out, in clofhes quite new,
His trowsers of strip'd (illegible text) on were,
His jacket old true blue.
"Oh charming Molly cook." he cried,
"My love!" then made a stop
What would you have?" Molly replied,
Quoth he, "A mutton chop.
Poor Molly as you all will
Expected something more,
And moping went, (how could she less?)
The larder to explore.
Says she, "how will, yon have them drest
My hero of the navy?"
Quoth he, dear: Moll I like'em best,
Fried—and full of gravy."
Te cook em straight she did begin.
And o'er the mutton sigh'd,
When lo! the soldier he marched in,
Just as the chops were fried,
