The cool winding banks of the Ayr, song

Pat Mulhern, singing in English
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In green Caledonia there ne’er were two lovers
So fondly enraptured in each other’s arms
And Burns the sweet bard of his dear highland Mary
And fondly and sweetly he sang of her charms
Long may his song sae enchanting and bonny
Be heard with the light o’er his ain native plains
And long may the name of his dear highland Mary
Be fated to love in such heart rendering strain.

It was on a May day and the flowers in the summer
Were blooming in wildness so lovely and fair
When our twa lovers met in a grove of green bower
That grew on the banks of the clear winding Ayr
Oh Mary dear Mary exclaimed her fond lover
You carry my heart to the Highlands with thee
Every bank every burn every grove and green bower
May talk of the love of my Mary and me.

My life’s fondest treasure my ain highland Mary
To you I’ll be ever devoted and true
And a heart that is beating so fast in my bosom
It’s a heart that will never love any but you.

I will not bide lang in the highlands dear laddie
I will not bide lang when you cannot be there
For although I have friends I love dear in the highlands
But the one I love best’s on the banks of Ayr.

Then he kissed her sweet lips that were redder than roses
He strained her lily white breast to his heart
And the tears fell like dew drops at e’en on her bosom
And he said my fond lover alas we must part
Farewell he said and he flew from his Mary
Farewell said she and she couldna say mair
‘Twas little they thought they had parted forever
When they parted that night on the banks of the Ayr.

The green summer shone but a few sunny mornings
And she in the bloom of her beauty and pride
Was laid in her grave like a lovely young flower
In Greenock Church yard on the banks of the Clyde
And Burns the sweet Bard of his ain Caledonia
Lamented his Mary in many a sad strain.
And sore did he weep for his ain highland Mary
For never did his heart love so deeply again.

Oh bring me the rose and bring me the daisy
And bring me all flowers that bloom in yon dale
And bring me the dew of a long summer’s evening
And bring me the breath of a sweet scented gale
Bring me the heart of a fond lover’s bosom
Bring me the tear of a true lover’s eye
And I’ll throw them all down on your grave highland Mary
For the sake of thy Burns who so dearly loved thee.