BETA

Oh Mary! thou’rt sae mild and sweet, 1
My very being clings about thee ; 2
This heart would rather cease to beat, 3
Than beat a lonely thing without thee. 4
How dear the lair on yon hill-cheek, 5
Where many a weary hour I tarry ! 6
For there I see the twisting reek 7
Rise frae the cot where dwells my Mary.8
When Phœbus keeks outower the muir, 9
His gowden locks a’ streaming gaily10
When morn has breathed her fragrance pure, 11
And life and joy ring through the valley12
I drive my flocks to yonder brook, 13
The feeble in my arms I carry, 14
And every lammie’s harmless look 15
Brings to my mind my bonny Mary.16
The exile may forget his home, 17
Where blooming youth to manhood grew ; 18
The bee forget the honey-comb, 19
Nor wi’ the spring his toil renew; 20
The sun may lose his light and heat, 21
The planets in their rounds miscarry, 22
But my fond heart shall cease to beat. 23
When I forget my bonny Mary.”24