Molly St. George
| TYPE | 3 - Complex Melody |
| TOPIC | Praise |
| TUNE STRUCTURE | A8 B16 |
| VERSE STRUCTURE | 3v 12l |
| TIME SIGNATURE | 34 |
| KEY SIGNATURE | ♯♯ |
| TONAL CENTRE | G |
| INCIPIT | GF♯EDEDC♯BC♯BAG |
| GENRE | Amhrán Mór |
| TEXT SOURCE | Bunting Notebooks. Special Collections, QUB Library. MS 4.26 4 |
| TUNE SOURCE | A Collection of the Most Celebrated Irish Tunes (Dublin: John and William Neal, 1724), p.24 |
| FIRST LINE | S í an inghion sin San Seoirse |
| NOTATED INCIPIT | |
| Bunting attributed this song to Thomas Connellan and Hardiman to Carolan, and the subject of the song has also been variously identified. For further details, including the praise-song which is quoted here, see Nicholas Carolan, ed. Celebrated Irish Tunes (1986; 2010 revised ed.), p.96. | |
Molly St George‘S í an inghion sin San SeóirseAn óigbhean a rug barLe deise, le mórdhaigh,Le sgéimh agus le breaghacht.‘S í an aindir chiún óg í,‘S í is ionruic ‘s as fearrÓn tSionoin chum na hÓmagh,Ón Ómagh go Droithchead Áth’,Portumna na long,Is go Luimneach na mbaad.Go deimhne, ‘Mhailigh mhaighdion,Níl do leithidse le faghail.Is mé an síogaidh ón ndílion Ar bhruach locha ‘snámh,Is mé síógaidh ga mo dhíbeirtÓ Ghaillibh ‘s gach áit.Bíon líon ar gach taobh dhíom‘Chuir na mílte chum báis,Líon a mbíon sioghbhraigheachtIs líon a mbíon grádh;Mo chreach mór ‘s mo dhíthGur a lion acu ‘táim,‘S gan m’fhuasgailt aig éinneachAch aig an mhaighdion deas mná.Tá mo chairde gá shíor-rádh liomGo bhfuilim gan chéill,Go bhfuil grádh agum ar Mháire‘S gan fáth dhomh ‘bheith léi;Go mbíom gá síor-shathasadh‘S ag inse na mbréag,‘S gur binne liom nó cláirseachFoghar a béil.Tá an bás ga mo chrádh‘S as fogus domh an t-éag;Go deimhin, a Mhailigh mhodhmur,Muna a ngéibhair liom féin.QUB Bunting MSS 26/4 (Suggested in Nicholas Carolan 2010, p.96)
Molly St George. That daughter of St George Is a young woman who has taken the prize For niceness, for superiority, For beauty and for loveliness. She is a modest young woman, She is the most honourable and the best From the Shannon to Omagh, From Omagh to Drogheda, To Portumna of the ships, And to Limerick of the boats. It is certain, maidenly Molly, That your like is not to be found. I am a fairy creature from the flood At the side of a lake swimming, I am a fairy creature being driven From Galway and from everywhere else. There is a net on every side of me That has killed thousands, A net in which there is magic And a net in which there is love; It is to my great harm and loss That I am in one of those nets, And that no one can release me But that fine maidenly woman. My friends are always saying to me That I have no sense, That I have love for Mary But have no reason to be with her; That I am continually pleasing her And flattering her, And that sweeter to me than the harp Is the sound of her voice. Death is tormenting me And it has come very near me; it is certainly so, modest Molly, Unless you go with me. (Translation in Nicholas Carolan, 2010, p.96)