The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/To Mary
For other versions of this work, see Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary.
TO MARY.
TUNE—'EWE-BUGHTS, MARION.'
Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,And leave auld Scotia's shore?Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,Across the Atlantic's roar?
O sweet grows the lime and the orange,And the apple on the pine;But a' the charms o' the IndiesCan never equal thine.
I hae sworn by the Heavens to my Mary,I hae sworn by the Heavens to be true;And sae may the Heavens forget me,When I forget my vow!
O plight me your faith, my Mary,And plight me your lily-white hand;O plight me your faith, my Mary,Before I leave Scotia's strand.
We hae plighted our troth, my Mary,In mutual affection to join,And curst be the cause that shall part us!The hour, and the moment o' time!