The Book of Scottish Song/Mary Cowley

Mary Cowley.

[Alexander Laing.]

Mary ance had mony a charm,
Few could boast o' half sae mony;
In ilka day an' Sunday claes,
Mary aye was neat and bonnie.
But the fairest flow'r o' May
Is nae in a' the wreath o' July;
And now amang the maidens gay,
Ye winna meet wi' Mary Cowley!

Mary ance had mony a lad,
Few could boast o' half sae mony;
But ah! the silly fickle maid,
The newest aye was best of ony.
Now the laddies woo nae mair,
Now the lassie rues her folly;
And dowie are the wearie days
An' lanely nights o' Mary Cowley!

Lassie, I maun leave you too,
Though I lo'e you best o' ony;
Ye ha'e wooers mony ane,
Ye winna ken the want o' Johnny!
Lassie, yet, afore we part,
O, tak' the lad that lo'es you truly,
Lest ye be left wi' shame an' wae,
To dree the fate o' Mary Cowley.

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