I've seen the lily of the wold;
I've seen the opening marigold,
Their fairest hues at morn unfold;
⁠But fairer is my Mary.
How sweet the fringe of mountain burn,
With op'ning flowers at spring's return!
How sweet the scent of flowery thorn!
⁠But sweeter is my Mary.

Her heart is gentle, warm, and kind;
Her form's not fairer than her mind;
Two sister beauties rarely join'd,
⁠But join'd in lovely Mary.
As music from the distant steep,
As starlight on the silent deep,
So are my passions lull'd asleep
⁠By love for bonnie Mary.