Poetry Archives

’Twas in the summer’s sweet perfume,
  When roses bloomed and holly, O,
That in the brightness of her bloom,
  I first did meet my Mollie, O.

Although she said for lives to love
  Was nothing but pure folly, O,
My heart was lit with light above,
  And I true loved my Mollie, O.

O, swift and fast the days did flee
  And seemed most bright and jolly, O,
For evermore was near to me
  My fair and lovely Mollie, O.

Now I doth sit through all the day
  And nurse my melancholy, O,
For from me she has turned away,
  O, false and fickle Mollie, O!