Oh! Molly Bawn, why leave me pining
Or lonely waiting here for you,
While 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, kept them sleeping,
With their rosy faces washed In dew.
The pretty flowers were made to bloom, dear.
And the pretty stars were made to shine;
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, d'ye see?
For he knows I'd steal you, Molly darling,
And then transported I should be.