Highland Mary

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Highland Mary

Will you leave the hills of Scotland?

Your childhood’s happy home,

To brave the dangers of the deep,

In foreign lands to roam⁠—

Say, Mary, will you, for my sake

Leave yonder joyous cot⁠—

Your youthful friends and scenes so dear,

To share a soldier’s lot?

The battle’s din, my Mary,

Has never met thine ear,

The woodlands’ songsters melody

Is all that thou dost hear.

The vivid flash of musketry⁠—

The cannon’s thundering roar

Must meet thine eye, burst on thine ear

Sounds never heard before.

And now, fond one, I’ve told you all.

And I can say no more⁠—

“Will you go to the Indies, my Mary,

And leave old Scotia’s shore?”