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Poem by Robert Anderson


Mary


O Mary! when the wild wind blows,
And blasts the beauties o' the rose;
Thy coming fate to me it shews,
And I cou'd weep for Mary.
Aft has the blossom deck'd the tree,
Sin first thy glancin tell--tale ee
Confest a wee bit luive for me,
And I was smit wi' Mary.

O Mary! I hae loe'd thee lang;
Thou'rt ay the burthen o' my sang;
For day or night, where'er I gang,
I think o' nought but Mary.
When sleep seals up my wearied ee,
In dreams thy angel form I see;
And in fond raptures, say to thee,
O, dinna leave me, Mary!

O Mary! when the warl's unkind,
And poverty thraws me behind,
I ay can cheer my drooping mind
Wi' thoughts o' thee, sweet Mary;
For were I sick, and like to die,
Thy witching smile wad comfort me;
Then come what will, my wish shall be
For happiness to Mary. 



Robert Anderson


Robert Anderson's other poems:
  1. Epitaph on Maria of the Cottage
  2. Feckless Wully
  3. Britannia’s Call
  4. Mad Margery
  5. Song 1. A Lassie and a Gill


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • William Blake Mary ("Sweet Mary, the first time she ever was there")
  • Robert Southey Mary ("Who is she, the poor Maniac, whose wildly-fix'd eyes")
  • Caroline Norton Mary ("YES, we were happy once, and care")
  • Bessie Parkes Mary ("WAVES which discourse, in a melodious whisper")

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