My Mary

My Mary, O my Mary! The simmer-skies are blue; The dawnin' brings the dazzle, An' the gloamin' brings the dew?-- The mirk o' nicht the glory O' the moon, an' kindles, too, The stars that shift aboon the lift.--- But nae thing brings me you!

Where is it, O my Mary, Ye are biding a' the while? I ha' wended by your window-- I ha' waited by the stile, An' up an' down the river I ha' won for mony a mile, Yet never found, adrift or drown'd, Your lang-belated smile.

Is it forgot, my Mary, How glad we used to be?-- The simmer-time when bonny bloomed The auld trysting-tree,-- How there I carved the name for you, An' you the name for me; An' the gloamin' kenned it only When we kissed sae tenderly.

Speek ance to me, my Mary!--- But whisper in my ear As light as ony sleeper's breath, An' a' my soul will hear; My heart shall stap its beating An' the soughing atmosphere Be hushed the while I leaning smile An' listen to you, dear!

My Mary, O my Mary! The blossoms bring the bees; The sunshine brings the blossoms, An' the leaves on a' the trees; The simmer brings the sunshine An' the fragrance o' the breeze,-- But O wi'out you, Mary, I care nae thing for these!

We were sae happy, Mary! O think how ance we said-- Wad ane o' us gae fickle, Or are o' us lie dead,-- To feel anither's kisses We wad feign the auld instead, And ken the ither's footsteps In the green grass owerhead.

My Mary, O my Mary! Are ye daughter o' the air, That ye vanish aye before me As I follow everywhere?-- Or is it ye are only But a mortal, wan wi' care?-- Syne I search through a' the kirkyird An' I dinna find ye there!