Wi' mony a vow, and lock'd embrace, Our parting was fu' tender; And, pledging aft to meet again, We tore oursels asunder; But, oh, fell death's untimely frost, That nipp'd my flower sae early! Now green's the sod and cauld's the clay, That wraps my Highland Mary!
Oh, pale, pale now, those rosy lips, I aft ha'e kiss'd, sae fondly! And closed for aye 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!
Little one, come to my knee! Hark, how the rain is pouring Over the roof, in the pitch-black night, And the wind in the woods a-roaring!
Hush, my darling, and listen, Then pay for the story with kisses; Father was lost in the pitch-black night, In just such a storm as this is!
High up on the lonely mountains, Where the wild men watched and waited Wolves in the forest, and bears in the bush, And I on my path belated.
The rain and the night together Came down, and the wind came after, Bending the props of the pine-tree roof, And snapping many a rafter.
I crept along in the darkness, Stunned, and bruised, and blinded,-- Crept to a fir with thick-set boughs, And a sheltering rock behind it.
There, from the blowing and raining Crouching, I sought to hide me: Something rustled, two green eyes shone, And a wolf lay down beside me.
Little one, be not frightened; I and the wolf together, Side by side, through the long, long night Hid from the awful weather.
His wet fur pressed against me; Each of us warmed the other; Each of us felt, in the stormy dark, That beast and man was brother.
And when the falling forest No longer crashed in warning, Each of us went from our hiding-place Forth in the wild, wet morning.
Darling, kiss me in payment! Hark, how the wind is roaring; Father's house is a better place When the stormy rain is pouring!
She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
I saw her upon nearer view, A Spirit, yet a Woman too! Her household motions light and free, And steps of virgin-liberty; A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet; A Creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles.