To Mary Poem by Albert Pike

I ken a charming little maid,
As sweet and winsome as a fairy;
I wadna ask wi' wealth to wed,
If I could wed wi' thee, Mary!

I've wandered east, I've wandered west,
As wanton as the winds that vary;
But ne'er was I sae truly blest,
As when I met wi' thee, Mary!

Like a wee purple violet,
That hangs its blushing head sae weary,
When wi' sweet dew its leaves are wet,—
Sae modest, sweet art thou, Mary!

Thy brow is white, as is the mist,
That sleeps on heaven's forehead starry;
Or mountain snow by sunrise kissed,—
Thy heart is purer still, Mary!

Thy e'en are like an eagle's e'en,
That sitteth proudly on his eyrie;
They glitter with a radiant sheen,'
Yet modest as thy heart, Mary!

Upon thy rosy cheek, the soul
Seems in the gushing tide to vary,
And crimson currents in it roll,
As though they wad break through, Mary!

If I could press thee in my arms,
As my wee wife and bonnie fairy,
I wadna gi'e for thy sweet charms,
The warld and a' its wealth, Mary!

How sweetly wad the hours gae by,
That noo sae solemn are and dreary,
If thou upon my heart didst lie,
My ain, my loving, dear Mary!