The Book of Scottish Song/The Star of Glengary

The Star of Glengary.

The red moon is up o'er the moss-covered mountain;
The hour is at hand when I promised to rove
With the turf-cutter's daughter by Logan's fair water,
And tell her how truly her Donald can love!
I ken there's the miller, wi' plenty o' siller,
Would fain win a glance frae her beautiful e'e,
But my ain bonnie Mary—the star of Glengary—
Keeps a' her sweet smiles an' saft kisses for me!

'Tis lang since we first trod the Highlands the-gither,
Twa frolicksome bairns gaily starting the deer,
When I ca'd her my life—my bonnie wee wife—
And ne'er knew sic joy as when Mary was near;
And still she's the blossom I wear in my bosom—
A blossom I'll cherish an' wear till I dee,
For my ain bonnie Mary—the star o' Glengary!
She's health, an' she's wealth, an' she's a' good to me!

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