Page:Robin Adair (1).pdf/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.