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Poem by Robert Burns


To Mary in Heaven


THOU lingering star, with lessening ray,
  That lovst to greet the early morn,
Again thou usherest in the day
  My Mary from my soul was torn.
O Mary! dear departed shade!
  Where is thy place of blissful rest?
Seest thou thy lover lowly laid?
  Hearst thou the groans that rend his breast?

That sacred hour can I forget?
  Can I forget the hallowd grove,
Where by the winding Ayr we met,
  To live one day of parting love?
Eternity will not efface
  Those records dear of transports past;
Thy image at our last embrace-
  Ah! little thought we twas our last!

Ayr gurgling kissd his pebbled shore,
  Oerhung with wild woods, thickening green;
The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar,
  Twind amorous round the rapturd scene.
The flowers sprang wanton to be prest,
  The birds sang love on evry spray,
Till too too soon, the glowing west
  Proclaimd the speed of winged day.

Still oer these scenes my memory wakes,
  And fondly broods with miser care!
Time but the impression deeper makes,
  As streams their channels deeper wear.
My Mary, dear departed shade!
  Where is thy blissful place of rest?
Seest thou thy lover lowly laid?
  Hearst thou the groans that rend his breast?



                      Robert Burns


Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. Tam Samsons Elegy
  2. Could Aught of Song
  3. O Whare Bid Ye Get
  4. Prayer For Mary
  5. Jockeys Taen the Parting Kiss


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