MARY MORISON;
O Mary at thy window be,
It is the wish'd the trysted hour!
Those smiles and glances let me see,
That make the miser's treasure poor,
How blithly wad I bide the stoure,
A weary slave frae sun to sun;
Could I the rich reward secure,
The lovely Mary Morison.
Yestreen when to the trembling string,
The dance gaes' thro' the lighted ha'
To the my fancy took its wing,
I sat but neither heard nor saw.
Tho' t' was fair and that was braw
And you the toast of a the town,
I sigh'd and said amang them a, —
"Ye are nae Mary Morison."
O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace,
Wha for thy sake wad gladly die?
Or canst thou hreak that heart of his,
Whase only faut is loving thee ?
If love for love thou wilt on gie.
at least ha pity to me shown;
A thought ungentle canna be,
The thought o' Mary Morison.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse