Page:Seven popular songs (2).pdf/5

5 MARY’S DREAM.

The moon had clim'd the highest hill, That rises o'er the source of Dee, And from the eastern summit shed, Her silver light on tower and tree; When Mary laid her down to sleep Her thoughts on Sandy far at sea; When soft and low a voice heard, 'O! Mary weep no more for me.'

She from her pillow gently raised, Her head to ask who there might be, And saw young Sandy shiv'ring stand, With pallid cheek and hollow e’e, So, Mary dear cold is my day, It lies beneath a stormy sea, Far, far, from thee I sleep in death, So, Mary weep no more for me.

Three stormy nights and stormy days, We toss'd upon the raging main. And long we strove our hark to save, But all our striving was in vain. Even then, when horror chill'd my blood, My heart was fill’d with love for thee; The storm is past and I at rest, So Mary weep no more for me.