That nipt my flower sae early!
Now green's the sod and cauld's the clay
That wraps my Highland Mary.
O pale, pale now those rosy lips
I oft ha'e kissed sae fondly!
And closed for aye the sparkling glance,
That dwelt on me sae kindly!
And mouldering now in silent dust
That heart that lo'ed me dearly!
But still within my bosom's core