Mary Morrison By Robert Burns - Frederick Worlock

Oh Mary at thy window be

It is the wish the trysted hour

These smiles and glances let me see

What makes the miser's treasure poor

Blythely would I bide the stour

A weary slave frae sun tae sun

Could I the rich reward secure

The lovely Mary Morrison

Yestreen when tae the tremblin' string

The dance gaed through the painted ha'

To thee my fancy took it's wing

I sat but neither heard nor saw

Tho' this was fair and that was braw

And yon the toast o' a' the toon

I sighed and said amang them a'

Ye arenae Mary Morrison

Oh Mary wouldst thou wreck his peace

Who for thy sake would gladly die

Or wouldst thou break that heart o' his

Wha's only faut was lovin' thee

If love for love thou wiltnae gie

At least be pity to me shown

A thocht ungentle cannae be

The thocht o' Mary Morrison