Molly Mullally has a magic bell
That calls the boggles in the dell;
All she has to do is ring,
An’ through the window-cracks they spring,
With mossy hair and acorn caps,
Tied on their heads with clover straps.
They help her bring in beets and squash,
Churn the butter, hang the wash;
They scrub the pots with bristle-reeds --
They're all the help that Molly needs;
With freckled cheeks and beards of green,
The boggles mess as much as clean.
The boggle king is wise and just
Twice as tall as a biscuit crust;
A tip of his hat, a wink of his eyes
He grows from an inch up to regular size.
With stoic bow he offers a hand,
They dance to the sound of a boggle band.
“Molly is clever, sweet, and kind
As worthy a woman as e’re I’ll find
But as the beggar leans on his crutch
She rings that bell a bit overmuch!”
He might marry Molly and marry well,
If not for the curse of that terrible bell!
The boggle king appears in a puff
And shouts aloud, “Enough! Enough!”
With his word he breaks the spell
“No more a-ringin’ that awful bell!”
The boggles doff their tiny hats,
And back away with pitter-pats.
Now Molly’s left all on her own,
Poor widow Molly in an empty home;
“I’m frightful sorry my boggle friends,
Is there no way to make amends?”
None to comfort none to keep,
None to hear the woman weep.
The sounds of sorrow reach the dell,
Worse by far than the magic bell;
The boggle king appears in smoke,
And wraps Molly in his mossy cloak;
“Ah, Molly in all the times we’ve shared
I never knew how much you cared.”
Her house enlarged, her dress transformed,
A second dance is now performed;
They twirl around a magical scene
He asks her then to be his queen-
“And if ever again you have a task
No more bells, just come and ask!”
