|   1.Ye banks and braes and streams around
 The castle o' Montgomery,
 Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,
 Your waters never drumlie!
 There Summer first unfald her robes,
 And there the langest tarry!
 For there I took the last fareweel
 O' my sweet Highland Mary!
 2.
 How sweetly bloom'd the gay, green birk,
 How rich the hawthorn's blossom,
 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
 Was my sweet Highland Mary.
 3.
 Wi' monie a vow and lock'd embrace
 Our parting was fu' tender;
 And, pledging aft to meet again,
 We tore oursels asunder.
 But O, 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!
 4.
 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.
 | 
 
 You banks and hillsides and streams around
 The castle of Montgomery,
 Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,
 Your waters never muddy!
 There Summer first unfold her robes,
 And there the longest time tarry!
 For there I took the last farewell
 Of my sweet Highland Mary!
 
 How sweetly bloomed the gay, green birch,
 How rich the hawthorn's blossom,
 As underneath their fragrant shade
 I clasped her to my bosom!
 The golden hours on angel wings
 Flew over my and my dear:
 For dear to me as light and life
 Was my sweet Highland Mary.
 
 With many a vow and locked embrace
 Our parting was full tendes;
 And, pledging often to meet again,
 We tore ourselves asunder.
 But O, cruel Death's untimely frost,
 That nipped my flower so early!
 Now green is the sod, and cold is the clay,
 That wraps my Highland Mary!
 
 O, pale, pale now, those rosy lips
 I often have kissed so fondly;
 And closed for always, the sparkling glance
 That dwelt on me so kindly;
 And mouldering (crumbling) now in silent dust
 That heart that loved me dearly!
 But still within my bosom's core
 Shall live my Highland Mary.
 |