Sweet Mollyanne of the workhouse

Easily bed and bought

She thought I would take her from the workhouse

But all of her thoughts were for naught

I dazzled her with my finery and graces

I plied her with a cask of bitter rye

For to loosen her lips and untie her laces

No sort of gentleman am I

Sweet Mollyanne gave her flesh for a pittance

She gave her heart for less

She gave me such uninhibited admittance

I was quite taken aback, I confess

Back to the workhouse, she and I,

Under the watchman’s drowsing eye

The tenderest words were spoken

And vows of love soon enough broken

She tumbled to me with gentle laughter

And I knew I would soon have what every man’s after

This sullied maid with hair of yellow

Took the smooth hand of this roguish fellow

As on their cots the inebriates wailed and wept

Whilst their begrimed babies tossed and slept

Heedless of the bedbugs and the lice

I paid my thruppence and took her twice

Sweet Mollyanne, for her I’ll shed one tear

She rests tonight in a pauper’s grave

Sweet Mollyanne, her sorry tale ends here

A soul too wretched to save