The Sailor's Tragedy (1825)/Highland Mary

by Robert Burns (1759-1796)

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 flowers,
Your waters never drumlie;
There simmer first unfaulds 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 blossom:
As underneath the 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 dear Highland Mary.

Wi' mony a vow, and look’d embrace,
Our parting was fu’ tender;
And pledging aft to meet again,
We tore ourselves asunder,
But ohǃ fell death's untimely frost,
That nipt my flower so early:
Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay,
That raps my Highland Maryː

O pale, pale now those rosy lips,
I aft hae kiss’d sae fondly!
And clos'd for aye, the sparkling glance,
That dwelt on me sae kindly!
And mouldering now in silent dust,
That heart that lo'ed me dearlyǃ
But still within my bosom's core,
Shall live my Highland Mary.

 

---