10
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 word
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 sow'th 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! his o’er:
Ah! gramschree, &c.
