Rare Traditional English Folk Songs

Come molly my cludge, oh damsel fair,
But first thou'd best tie up thy hair,
For tangled locks with flailing string,
Can only bring ill fortune.

***

And when thou molliest, damsel fair,
Be sure to wear clean underwear,
Else if an accident thou had,
The doctor would not cure thee.

***

When thou hast done, oh fairest maid,
That which the parson hast forbade,
My cludge once more will then be free,
To do what it is able.

***

So haste away, thy fork must fly,
Thy mollying string thou must apply,
With vigour, thou should'st nibble hard,
Ere daylight should surprise thee.

***

And when my cludge at last is done,
Thou must away and homeward run,
For daylight is the mollier's bane,
And thou would'st lose thy fork dear.

***

Thy fork and string, thy bread and butter,
To lose them thou would'st be a nutter,
Fly like the wind, sweet mollier lass,
And meet me here next Tuesday.

***

(Extract from "Folk Songs of Olde Englande" - J. M. Blunt 1892)