Origins: Who wrote 'Sweet Molly Malone'?

Subject: RE: Origins: Who wrote 'Sweet Molly Malone'?
From: BenTraverse
Date: 23 Mar 24 - 09:22 PM

Peter linked to the Origins: Molly Malone thread. However, searching keywords from Chris's lyric set like "November" and "mackerel" don't yield any results. This looks like a version that wasn't discussed on that thread! I'd be fascinated to hear more about this version.

Subject: RE: Origins: Who wrote 'Sweet Molly Malone'?
From: keberoxu
Date: 23 Mar 24 - 07:49 PM

The preceding link results in an error page . . .

Subject: RE: Origins: Who wrote 'Sweet Molly Malone'?
From: GUEST,Peter L
Date: 23 Mar 24 - 11:44 AM

This thread looked at the in some depth.

I think you may need to look at some of the street names.

Subject: Origins: Who wrote 'Sweet Molly Malone'?
From: chrisgl
Date: 23 Mar 24 - 11:07 AM

This is not the well known Molly Mallone but a variant.
I heard it some 13 years ago sung by Ken Langsbury & Moorend Street at the two and only Garway Folk Festivals.

Subsequently I've seached online with no joy so I presume Ken wrote the song.

The tune, well, I have a bootleg recording
The words are.

In Dublin's fair city
Where the girls are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,
On Stephen's Green crying,
"Get your Mackerel for frying.
Your Cod and your Dory all fresh to take home."
And her age it was twenty,
And admirers she'd plenty,
But I gained the favours of Molly Malone.
She wheeled her wheelbarrow
Through the streets broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels! Alive, Alive Oh!"

On the 4th of September,
How well I remember,
I came up the Liffey by Hanover Key.
Her charms they were many,
As handsome as any.
Her face was the fairest I ever did see.
She was a fishmonger,
And that was no wonder,
For so were her father and her fathers before.
On Brampton Street calling,
"Hake, Whiting and Herring!
There's no better faring
for rich or for poor."
And her age it was twenty,
And admirers she'd plenty,
But I gained the favours of Molly Malone.
She wheeled her wheelbarrow
Through the streets broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels! Alive, Alive Oh!"

One day in October,
I'll swear I was sober,
On the Halfpenny Bridge
she was walking with me.
I asked her to marry,
not wanting tarry,
She promised by spring time
my bride she would be.
But her father objected
And she he rejected
But my darling, the wife of a docker would be.
All alone he relented,
At length he consented,
And we were as happy as lovers should be
And her age it was twenty,
And admirers she'd plenty,
But I gained the favours of Molly Malone.
She wheeled her wheelbarrow
Through the streets broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels! Alive, Alive Oh!"

On the 3rd of November,
My dream I'll remember,
For sickness caught hold of sweet
Molly Malone.
She died of a fever,
Nobody could save her,
No more on the Liffey's sweet banks
will she roam.
In all those bright places
Where she left her traces,
From Marryat Square down to Magazine Hill.
At night when I'm walking
I can still hear her calling:
"Cockles and mussels! Alive, Alive Oh!"
"Alive, Alive Oh! Alive, Alive Oh!"
Crying, "Cockles and mussels! Alive, Alive Oh!"

"Alive, Alive Oh! Alive, Alive Oh!"
Crying, "Cockles and mussels! Alive, Alive Oh!"


Fair winds
chris :-)