For other versions of this work, see Highland Mary (Burns).

Highland Mary.

YE banks and braes, and streams around,
The castle o’ Montgomery,
Green be your woods, and fair your flow’rs,
Your water never drumlie.
There simmer first unfolds her robes,
And there they langest tarry;
For there I took the last farewell,
Of my dear Highland Mary.

How sweetly bloom’d the gay green birk,
How rich the hawthorn blosom;
As underneath their fragrant shade,
I clasp’d her to my bosom!
The golden hours, on angel wings,
Flew o’er me and my dearie;
For dear to me, as light and life,
Was my sweet Highland Mary.

Wi’ mony a vow and lock’d embrace,
Our parting was fu’ tender;
And pledging aft to meet again,
We tore ourselves asunder.
But oh! fell death’s untimely frost,
That nipt my flow’r so early;
Now green’s the sod, and cauld’s the clay,
That wraps my Highland Mary!

O pale, pale now, those rosy lips,
I aft hae kiss’d sae fondly!
And clos’d for ay, the sparkling glance,
That dwelt on ne sae kindly!

And mouldering now in silent dust,
That heart that lo’ed me dearly!
But still within my bosom’s core,
Shall live my Highland Mary.