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(64) Page 60 - Mary of castle Cary

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(64) Page 60 - Mary of castle Cary
m
Bonny Jockey, blythe and free,
Won her heart right merrily ;
At church she no more frowning cry'd,
No, no, it will not do ;
1 cannot, cannot, wonnot* wonnot, mannot buckle to.
Mary of Castle Cary*
A Gaelic Air.
Saw ye my wee thing ? saw ye mine ain thing ?,
Saw ye my true-love down by yon lea ?
Cross'd she the meadow yestreen at the gloamin. ?
Sougbi she the burnie, whar flow'rs the haw-tree? .
Her hair it is lint- white, her skin it is milk-white \
Dark is the blue o' her soft-rolling ee !
Red, red her lip is, an' sweeter than roses ;
Whar could my wee thing wander frae me ?
" I saw na your wee thing, I saw na your ain thing,
*' Nor saw I your true love down by yon lee ;
" But I met my bonny thing late in the gloamin,
a Down by the burnie, whar flow'rs the haw-tree,

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