Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14. |
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| 14. Song—Mary Morison |
| | | | | Tune—“Bide ye yet.” |
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| O MARY, at thy window be, | |
| It is the wish’d, the trysted hour! | |
| Those smiles and glances let me see, | |
| That make the miser’s treasure poor: | |
| How blythely was I bide the stour, | 5 |
| A weary slave frae sun to sun, | |
| Could I the rich reward secure, | |
| The lovely Mary Morison. | |
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| Yestreen, when to the trembling string | |
| The dance gaed thro’ the lighted ha’, | 10 |
| To thee my fancy took its wing, | |
| I sat, but neither heard nor saw: | |
| Tho’ this was fair, and that was braw, | |
| And yon the toast of a’ the town, | |
| I sigh’d, and said among them a’, | 15 |
| “Ye are na Mary Morison.” | |
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| Oh, Mary, canst thou wreck his peace, | |
| Wha for thy sake wad gladly die? | |
| Or canst thou break that heart of his, | |
| Whase only faut is loving thee? | 20 |
| If love for love thou wilt na gie, | |
| At least be pity to me shown; | |
| A thought ungentle canna be | |
| The thought o’ Mary Morison. | |
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