Verse > Anthologies > Francis T. Palgrave, ed. > The Golden Treasury
Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury.  1875.
R. Burns
CLI. Highland Mary
YE banks and braes and streams around 
  The castle o' Montgomery, 
Green be your woods and fair your flowers, 
  Your waters never drumlie! 
There simmer first unfauld her robes,         5
  And there the langest tarry; 
For there I took the last fareweel 
  O' my sweet Highland Mary. 
How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, 
  How rich the hawthorn's blossom,  10
As underneath their fragrant shade 
  I clasp'd her to my bosom! 
The golden hours on angel wings 
  Flew o'er me and my dearie; 
For dear to me as light and life  15
  Was my sweet Highland Mary. 
Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace, 
  Our parting was fu' tender; 
And pledging aft to meet again, 
  We tore oursels asunder;  20
But, oh! fell Death's untimely frost, 
  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,  25
  I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly! 
And clos'd for aye the sparkling glance 
  That dwelt on me sae kindly! 
And mouldering now in silent dust 
  That heart that lo'ed me dearly!  30
But still within my bosom's core 
  Shall live my Highland Mary. 

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