TO MOLLIE

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.