Where art thou my Mary, My dear
Were you real and alive or maybe
Did you meet as designed on the banks of the Fail
On that Sunday in question, or was it a tale?
Did you exchange vows of love and accept the Good Book
That Robert inscribed there and you possibly took
Across the water to Dunoon and your
There to wait the word that surely would came.
The Port of Greenock where you promised to meet
And sail to the Indies, farewell and retreat.
So long to auld Scotia, weíll see you nae mair
The Nancy awaits us,
and parting is sair.
Before we could board her you died in that Port
They said of a fever, was the cause, by report,
And HE did not know that you had been ill
We miss you today and forever
after all will.
Oh! Mary, Where Art Thou, My Highland Lassie be
You truly were real, my heartís sadder withoot ye,
They took you to rest there in heaven above,
Rabís Highland Lassie and dear departed Love.