Mary morrison
The tannahill weaversThese smiles and glances let me see what makes the miser's treasure poor
Blythely would I bide the stour, a weary slave frae sun tae sun
Could I the rich reward secure, the lovely Mary Morrison
Yestreen when tae the tremblin' string the dance gaed through the painted ha'
To thee my fancy took its wing, I sat but neither heard nor saw
Tho' this was fair and that was braw, and yon the toast o' a' the toon
I sighed and said amang them a', ye arenae Mary Morrison
Oh Mary wouldst thou wreck his peace who for thy sake would gladly die
Or wouldst thou break that heart o' his wha's only faut was lovin' thee
If love for love thou wiltnae gie at least be pity to me shown
A thocht ungentle cannae be the thocht o' Mary Morrison
Oh Mary at thy window be, it is the time, the trysted hour
These smiles and glances let me see what makes the miser's treasure poor
Blythely would I bide the stour, a weary slave frae sun tae sun
Could I the rich reward secure, the lovely Mary Morrison
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