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I'll aye lament for Gill Morice,
As gin he were my ain;
I'll ne'er forget the dreary day
On which the youth was slain!"
Highland Mary.
YE banks and braes, and streams around
The Castle o' Montgomery,
Green be your woods, and fair your flow'rs;
Your waters never drumlie.
There simmer first unfaulds her robes,
Aud there they langest tarry:
For there I took my last fareweel
Of my dear Highland Mary.
O pale, pale now, those rosy lips,
I aft ha'e kiss'd sae fondly!
And clos'd for aye the sparkling glance
That dwelt on me sae kindly!
And mould'ring now in silent dust,
The heart that lo'ed me dearly!
But still within my bosom's core
Shall live my Highland Mary.
FINIS.
