Irish Molly, O!
A.W. AUNER, SONG PUBLISHER & PRINTER, Tenth and Race Sts., Philadelphia, Pa.
Irish Molly, O!
As I walked out one morning, all in the month of May,
I met a pretty Irish girl, and thus to her did say,
I put my hand in my pocket, as it happened so,
And pulled out a guinea to treat my Molly, O.
I said my pretty fair-maid, will you go along with me,
I will show you the straight way across the country,
My parents would be angry if they should come to know,
They will lay all the blame to my Scotch laddie, O.
When Molly’s own father he came to know,
That she had been courted by a Scotch laddie, O,
He sent for young McDonald and these words to him did say,
If you court my daughter Mary, I will send you far away.
Since Molly has deceived me, all by her father’s ways,
Through some lone woods and valleys, it’s there I’ll spend my days,
Like some poor forlorn pilgrim I wander too and fro,
It's all for the sake of my Irish Molly, O.
There is a rose in Dublin, I thought she would be mine,
For to come to my funeral is all I do require.
My body shall be ready by the dawning of the day,
It is all for the sake of my bonnie Irish maid.
When that I am buried, there is one thing more I crave
To lay a marble tomb-stone at the head of my grave,
And on this tomb stone a prayer shall be said,
That young McDonald lies here for his young Irish maid.
Come all you pretty fair maidens, a warning take by me,
And never build a nest at the top of any tree.
For the green leaves may wither and the root it will decay
And the beauty of a fair maid will soon fade away.
A.W. AUNER’S CARD AND JOB PRINTING ROOMS, Tenth and Race Sts., Philadelphia, Pa.