David Grant

“ And sent him on to Mary Hay
To break the tidings with eare.
To offer her gold, to offer her gear,
To offer her houses or land—
To tell her that she was free to love
And marry a lowlier man.
The news were said, the offers were made,
And the salt tears did no' come;
But she sat like a statue, or eorpse of the dead,
As motionless, paly, and dumb.
She never cast blame on her faithless lord,
Nor uttered one word to displease,
But she drooped her head like a frost-nipt rose,
And faded by slow degrees. ”

“ To the sweet Mary Hay, the flower o' the Don,
And her father's hope and pride.
But her father was no' a belted knight,
But a man of low degree,
And it grieved his heart his daughter's love
For a noble Earl to see.
"There never cam' good o' a lordling's love
For a maid so lowly born ”

“ And time ran on till a year had gone,
But never, by night or day,
Was the gallant Leslie absent from
The side of his Mary Hay.
The noblemen round might look askance,
Their ladies might scoff and sneer ”