Ye banks, and braes, and streams around The castle o’ Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie! There Simmer first unfald her robes And there she langest tarry! For there I took the last fareweel O’ my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk! How rich the hawthorn’s blossom! As underneath their fragrant shade I clasped 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’ monie a vow and locked 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 flower sae early! Now green ’s the sod, and cauld ’s the clay, That wraps my Highland Mary! Oh pale, pale now, those rosy lips I aft hae kissed sae fondly! And closed for aye the sparkling glance That dwelt on me sae kindly! And mould’ring now in silent dust That heart that lo’ed me dearly! But still within my bosom’s core Shall live my Highland Mary.
Highland Mary
More from Poet
-
Gyöngécske lány vagyok még, ijeszt is fű-fa uram; férfi ágyában engem a hideg rázna, uram. Korai még, korai még, korai még a konty nekem, korai még... bűn lenne ám, ha elcsavarná a fejem. Anyám varratta új ruhám, templomba mék megáldani, ha lefeküdnénk, jó uram, hová lennének fodrai? Régen...
-
My curse upon thy venomed stang, That shoots my tortured gums alang; An’ through my lugs gies mony a twang, Wi’ gnawing vengeance! Tearing my nerves wi’ bitter pang, Like racking engines. When fevers burn, or ague freezes, Rheumatics gnaw, or cholic squeezes; Our neighbor’s...
-
Ye banks and braes o’ bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu’ o’ care? Thou ’lt break my heart, thou warbling bird, That wantons through the flowering thorn; Thou minds me o’ departed joys, Departed—never to return. Thou ’...
-
[June 24, 1314] SCOTS, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led; Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victorie. Now ’s the day, and now ’s the hour See the front o’ battle lour: See approach proud Edward’s power,— Chains and slaverie! Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill...
-
My heart ’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here; My heart ’s in the Highlands a-chasing the deer; Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe. My heart ’s in the Highlands, wherever I go. Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North, The birthplace of valor, the country of worth;...