Classic Poem

Oh ! who is that poor foreigner that lately came to town,
And like a ghost that cannot rest still wanders up and down?
A poor, unhappy Scottish youth;—if more you wish to know,
His heart is breaking all for love of Irish Molly O!

—She's modest, mild, and beautiful, the fairest I have known—
—The primrose of Ireland—all blooming here alone—
—The primrose of Ireland, for wheresoe'er I go,
—The only one entices me is Irish Molly O!

When Molly's father heard of it, a solemn oath he swore,
That if she'd wed a foreigner he'd never see her more.
He sent for young MacDonald and he plainly told him so—
“I'll never give to such as you my Irish Molly O!”

MacDonald heard the heavy news, and grievously did say—
“Farewell, my lovely Molly, since I'm banished far away,
A poor forlorn pilgrim I must wander to and fro.
And all for the sake of my Irish Molly O!

“There is a rose in Ireland, I thought it would be mine:
But now that she is lost to me, I must for ever pine,
Till death shall come to comfort me, for to the grave I'll go
And all for the sake of my Irish Molly O!

“And now that I am dying, this one request I crave,
To place a marble tombstone above my humble grave!
And on the stone these simple words I'd have engraven so—
“‘MacDonald lost his life for love of Irish Molly O!’”