Poem by John Imlah

* * *

There lives a young lassie
     ⁠Far down yon lang glen;
How I lo'e that lassie
⁠     There's nae ane can ken!
O! a saint's faith may vary.
     ⁠But faithful I'll be;
For weel I lo'e Mary,
⁠     An' Mary lo'es me.

Red, red as the rowan
⁠     Her smiling wee mou';
An' white as the gowan
     ⁠Her breast and her brow!
Wi' a foot o' a fairy
⁠     She links o'er the lea;
O! weel I lo'e Mary,
⁠     An' Mary lo'es me.

She sings sweet as onie
     ⁠Wee bird of the air,
And she's blithe as she's bonnie.
⁠     She's guid as she's fair;
Like a lammie sae airy
     ⁠And artless is she,
O! weel I lo'e Mary,
     ⁠And Mary lo'es me!

Where yon tall forest timmer,
⁠     An' lowly broom bower,
To the sunshine o' simmer
⁠     Spread verdure an' flower;
There, when night clouds the cary,
⁠     Beside her I'll be;
For weel I lo'e Mary,
     ⁠And Mary lo'es me. 

1. O, Gin I Were Where Gadie Rins!
2. The Rose of Seaton Vale

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