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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS |
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Of lovers she had a full score
Or more; And fortunes they all had galore,
In store; From the minister down To the Clerk of the Crown, All were courting the widow Malone,
Ohone! All were the courting the widow Malone.
But so modest was Mistress Malone,
'Twas known No one ever could see her alone,
Ohone! Let them ogle and sigh, They could ne'er catch her eye — So bashful the widow Malone,
Ohone ! So bashful the widow Malone.
Till one Mr. O'Brien from Clare —
How quare! It's little for blushing they care
Down there — Put his arm round her waist, Took ten kisses at laste — "Oh," says he, "you're my Molly Malone —
My own ! " " Oh," says he, " you're my Molly Malone! "
And the widow they all thought so shy,
My eye! Ne'er thought of a simper or sigh —
For why? |
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