Mary's Dream.
[The author of this beautiful poem was John Lowe, a son of the gardener at Kenmure castle in Galloway. Having studied for the church, he was employed as tutor by Mr. Macghie at Airds, an estate near the confluence of the Dee and the Ken. While residing there, about the year 1772, a gentleman named Alexander Miller, the lover of Miss Mary Macghie, was drowned at sea—and this gave occasion to the song which preserves Lowe's name. Lowe's life was unfortunate. He died in America towards the close of the last century.]
The moon had climb'd the highest hill,
Which rises o'er the source of Dee,
And from the eastern summit shed
Her silver light on tower and tree;
When Mary laid her down to sleep,
Her thoughts on Sandy far at sea;
When soft and low, a voice was heard,
Saying, "Mary, weep no more for me!"
She from her pillow gently raised
Her head, to ask who there might be,
And saw young Sandy shivering stand,
With visage pale, and hollow e'e.
"O Mary dear, cold is my clay;
It lies beneath a stormy sea.
Far, far from thee, I sleep in death,
So, Mary, weep no more for me!
Three stormy nights and stormy days,
We tossed upon the raging main;
And long we strove our bark to save,
But all our striving was in vain.
Even then, when horror chiled my blood,
My heart was filled with love for thee:
The storm is past, and I at rest;
So, Mary, weep no more for me!
O maiden dear, thyself prepare;
We soon shall meet upon that shore,
Where love is free from doubt and care,
And thou and I shall part no, more!"
Loud crowed the cock, the shadow fled:
No more of Sandy could she see.
But soft the passing spirit said,
"Sweet Mary, weep no more for me!"