"Trottin' to the fair"
di Alfred Perceval Graves (1846-1931)

Trottin' to the fair . . .
Me and Moll Molony,
Seated, I declare,
On a single pony.
How am I to know that
Molly's safe behind
With our heads in, oh, that
Awkward way inclined? . . .
By her gentle breathin'
Whisper'd past my ear . . .
And her white arms wreathin'
Warm around me here . . .
Thus on Dobbin's back
I discoursed the darling
Till upon our track
Leapt a mongrel snarling.
"Ah," says Moll, "I'm frightened
That the pony'll start!"
And her pretty hands she tightened
Round my happy heart . . .
Till I axed her "May I
Steal a kiss or so?"
And my Molly's grey eye
Didn't answer no.