Now Molly was brown as a berry,
     Her hair like the shadow at noon,
     And her merry brown eyes could flash a surprise,
     So the young men all danced to her tune.
     But Molly is gone from the water,
     No more with the lads for to talk;
     She was drowned, she was drowned, and she never was found,
     Where the black water slaps at the rock.
     
     When darkness was over the water,
     And Molly was out with a fare,
     By the water-stair steep her heart gave a leap
     So that she could do nothing but stare,
     And when that her fare had departed,
     She had to draw closer and talk--
     She was drowned, she was drowned, and she never was found,
     Where the black water slaps at the rock.
     
     His trousers were wet to the ankle,
     And oh, like the moon he was pale.
     To her eyes he was fair; with a toss of her hair,
     She invited him over the rail.
     "Oh, won't you step up for the evening?
     Step up, on my deck for to walk--"
     She was drowned, she was drowned, and she never was found,
     Where the black water slaps at the rock.
     
     When I saw her skip pass, she was talking,
     Laughing up at a spot in the air,
     And her hair stirred in place, and she lifted her face--
     But I could see nobody there.
     Where the current runs out to Dead Harbor,
     She poled her skip into the lock,
     She was drowned, she was drowned, and she never was found,
     Where the black water slaps at the rock.
     
     It was at low tide that she left us.
     At high tide her skip drifted back,
     And the engine was oiled, and the painter was coiled
     And the pole neatly laid in its rack.
     But never a sign of our Molly,
     So bright with her laughter and talk.
     She was drowned, she was drowned, and she never was found,
     Where the black water slaps at the rock.