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Courtship & marriage

Admred [sic] song called Young Molly Bawn

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An admred Song called

              Molly Bawn.

Come all you young fellows that follow the gun,
Beware of late shooting by the setting of the sun,
Her white apron about her I took her for a swat
But to my misfortune it was my Molly Bawn

He ran to his uncle with the gun in his hand
Saying Uncle, dear Uncle I'm not able to stand,
I've a story to tell you which happened of late
I have lovely Moly Bawn and her beauty was great

Up comes his father and his locks they were gr
Stay in your own country and don't run away,
Stay in your own country till yonr trial comes o
ll see oufes a by the laws of the land.

My curses my u Toby that lent me your gun
To go a state shooting by the setting of the sun
I robbed her fair temples and found she was dead
A fo l got tears for my Molly I shed.

I shot my own true lover—alas ? I'm undone
While she was in the shade by the setting of the sun
Ah, if I thought she was there I'd caress her
And soon I'd get marred to my own dear Molly

Young women dont be jesting when your love
is sincere,
For if you do they can't love yon or e'er as you
You'll know by a young man's conduct, when he's
gentle and bland
he'll give you his her and also hi hand,

          Rocking the Cradle

As I roved out on a fine summer
Down by a clear river I walked al
heard a man making a most sad
And thus he began to make his sad
Chorus :—Crying ochone that I ever
was married,
Leaves me in sorrow alas to bemoan,
Weeping, wealing, and rocking the
Pleasing the child that is none of my

I listened awhile to his sad lamentat-
Perhaps that his story it might be
So fondly he hugged and dandled the
And thus he began to make a sad moan

When first I met with your inconstant
I thought myself happy and blessed
with a wife,
But to my relexation, sure I soon was
She was a torture and pleague to my

My wife comes in, in the heel of the
She says to her consert the kettle put
For she sits to her table, and to tea
Saying you old cuckold rook the child

Every evening 'tis true she walks with
her bullies,
And leaves me the cradle to rock all
This innocent baby it calls me its dady
But little it knows its none of my own.

I was single once more to my glory
No element of pleasure would e'er me
I'd ra er be a slave in wild Guinea.
Than to any drunkard or de a

So now to conclude and to finish my
All men that are single ne'er take a
For if you do they will surely torment
Likewise be a torture all the days of
your life.

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