Page 146

88
Highland Mary.
Ye banks, and braes, and streams around
The castle o' Montgomery,
Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,
There simmer first unfauld her robes,
And there the langest tarry;
For there I took the last fareweel
O' my sweet Highland Mary.

How sweetly bloomed'd the gay green birk,
How rich the hawthorn's blossom,
As underneath their fragrant share
I clasp'd her to my bosom!
The golden hours, on angel wings,
Flew o'er me and my dearie:
For dear to me, as light and life,
Was my sweet Highland Mary.

Wi' monie a vow, and lock'd embrace
Our parting was fu' tender;
And pledging aft to meet again,
We tore oursels asunde:
But oh! fell death's untimely frost,
That nipt my flower sae early!
Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay,
that wraps my Highland Mary!

O pale, pale now, those rosy lips,
I aft hae kiss'd so fondly!
And closed for ay the sparkling glance
That dwelt on me sae kindly!
And mold'ring now in silent dust,
That heart that lo'ed me dearly!
But still within my bosom's core
Shall live my Highland Mary
ROBERT BURNS.

If the Heart Be True.
Alll things can never go badly wrong
If the heart be true and the love be strong;
for the mist if it comes, and the weeping rain
Will be changed by love into sunshine again.
GEORGE MacDONALD.