My Mary

My Mary, O my Mary! The simmer-skies are blue; The dawnin' brings the dazzle, An' the gloamin' brings the dew,-- The mirk o' nicht the glory O' the moon, an' kindles, too, The stars that shift aboon the lift.-- But nae thing brings me you! Where is it, O my Mary, Ye are biding a' the while? I ha' wended by your window-- I ha' waited by the stile, An' up an' down the river I ha' won for mony a mile, Yet never found, adrift or drown'd, Your lang-belated smile. Is it forgot, my Mary, How glad we used to be?-- The simmer-time when bonny bloomed The auld trysting-tree,-- How there I carved the name for you, An' you the name for me; An' the gloamin' kenned it only When we kissed sae tenderly. Speek ance to me, my Mary!-- But whisper in my ear As light as ony sleeper's breath, An' a' my soul will hear; My heart shall stap its beating An' the soughing atmosphere Be hushed the while I leaning smile An' listen to you, dear! My Mary, O my Mary! The blossoms bring the bees; The sunshine brings the blossoms, An' the leaves on a' the trees; The simmer brings the sunshine An' the fragrance o' the breeze,-- But O wi'out you, Mary, I care nae thing for these! We were sae happy, Mary! O think how ance we said-- Wad ane o' us gae fickle, Or ane o' us lie dead,-- To feel anither's kisses We wad feign the auld instead, An' ken the ither's footsteps In the green grass owerhead. My Mary, O my Mary! Are ye daughter o' the air, That ye vanish aye before me As I follow everywhere?-- Or is it ye are only But a mortal, wan wi' care?-- Syne I search through a' the kirkyird An' I dinna find ye there!