Can he the hours of love forget,
The stolen hours I 'll mind for ever,
When down the burn we fondly met,
And aften vow'd we ne'er should sever?
Will my Henry then deceive me,
Faithless laddie, can he leave me?
Ne'er till now did fancy dream,
My dearest laddie sae would grieve me.
And will he then me aye forsake?
Must I for ever, ever lose him?
And can he leave this heart to break,
That swells and bursts within my bosom?
Never, Henry, could I leave thee,
Never could this heart deceive thee,
Why then, laddie, me forsake,
And sae wi' cruel absence grieve me?
MARY.[15]
"In life's gay morn," when hopes beat high,
And youthfu' love's endearing tie
Gave rapture to the mutual sigh,
Within the arms of Mary,
My ain dear Mary;
Nae joys beneath the vaulted sky,
Could equal mine wi' Mary.
The sacred hours like moments flew,
Soft transports thrill'd my bosom through,
The warl' evanish'd frae my view
Within the arms of Mary,
My ain dear Mary;
Nae gloomy cares my soul e'er knew
Within the arms of Mary.
Young fancy spread her visions gay,
Love fondly view'd the fair display,
Hope shew'd the blissfu' nuptial day,
And I was rapt with Mary,
My ain dear Mary;
The flowers of Eden strew'd the way
That led me to my Mary.
But life is now a dreary waste,
I lanely wander sair depress'd,
For cold and lifeless is that breast
Where throbb'd the heart of Mary,
My ain dear Mary;
She 's gane to seats o' blissfu' rest,
And I hae lost my Mary.