Robert Burns (1759-1796)
Mary Morison
1O Mary, at thy window be,
2 It is the wish'd, the trysted hour!
3Those smiles and glances let me see,
4 That makes the miser's treasure poor:
5How blythely wad I bide the stoure,
6 A weary slave frae sun to sun,
7Could I the rich reward secure,
8 The lovely Mary Morison.
9Yestreen when to the trembling string
10 The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha'
11To thee my fancy took its wing,
12 I sat, but neither heard nor saw:
13Tho' this was fair, and that was braw,
14 And yon the toast of a' the town,
15I sigh'd, and said amang them a',
16 "Ye are na Mary Morison."
17O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace,
18 Wha for thy sake wad gladly die?
19Or canst thou break that heart of his,
20 Whase only faut is loving thee?
21If love for love thou wilt na gie
22 At least be pity to me shown:
23A thought ungentle canna be
24 The thought o' Mary Morison.
Notes
2] trysted hour: appointed hour.
5] bide the stoure: bear the hardship.
10] ha': hall.
13] braw: gaily dressed.
Online text copyright © 2009, Ian Lancashire (the Department of English) and the University of Toronto.
Published by the Web Development Group, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries.
Original text: The Works of Robert Burns, ed. James Currie (Liverpool: J. M'Creery; and Edinburgh: W. Creech, 1800), vol. IV. D-10/7273 Fisher Library.
First publication date:
1800
RPO poem editor: G. G. Falle
RP edition: 3RP 2.299.
Recent editing: 4:2002/3/19
Composition date:
1781
Rhyme: ababbcac
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