Oh, she melted the hearts
Of the swains in them parts,
So lovely the Widow Malone,

Ohone!

So lovely the Widow Malone.

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,

Let them ogle and sigh,

They could ne'er catch her eye, So bashful the Widow Malone,

Ohone!

So bashful the Widow Malone.

Put his arm round her waist

Gave 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,

But "Lucius," says she,

For why?

"Since you've now made so free, You may marry your Mary Malone, Ohone!

You may marry your Mary Malone."

There's a moral contained in my song,
Not wrong,

And one comfort, it's not very long,

If for widows you die,

But strong,

Learn to kiss, not to sigh,

For they're all like sweet Mistress Malone,

Ohone!

Oh, they're all like sweet Mistress Malone.

Charles Lever.

And he eyed the young rogues

with so charming an air,