If he kiss a pretty girl he will make her his wife,
And she loves her jolly plowman as dear as her life.
Come Molly and Dolly let’s away to the wake,
There the plow boys will treat us with beer ale and cake,
And if in coming home they should gain their Ends,
Ne’er fear but they’ll marry us, or make us amends.
There’s Molly and Dolly, Nelly and Sue,
There’s Ralph, John and Willie and young Tommy too;
Each lad takes his lass to the wake or the fair,
Adzooks they look rarely, I vow and declare.