O Mollie, I would I possessed such a heart;
It enchants me so gentle and true;
I would I possessed all its magical art,
Then, Mollie, I would enchant you.
Those dear, rosy lips tho' I never caressed them(?)
Are as sweet as the wild honey-dew;
Your cheeks all the angels in Heaven have blessed them,
But not one is as lovely as you.
Then give me that heart, O that innocent heart!
For mine own is cold and perdu;
It enchants me, but give me its magical art,
Then, Mollie, I will enchant you.