Page:Robin Adair (1).pdf/8

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8

And pledging aft to meet again,
We tore ourselves asunder.
But oh, fell death's untimely frost,
That nipt my flower so early;
Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay
That wraps my Highland Mary.

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

FINIS.