Mary of Carrick

Mary of Carrick has gone away
From our pleasant places, down to the sea,
She has put a loss on our mountain gray,
She has drained the joy from the heart o' me,
Mary a-stor,
Mary a-stor.
Black hair, black eyes, I am grieving sore!

Mary of Carrick is small and sweet —
My Share of the World, how sweet were you
Tripping along on little bare feet
With your milking-pails through the rainbow dew?
Mary a-stor,
Mary a-stor.
The sun was a shadow with you to the fore!

Mary of Carrick gave only a smile —
No word of comfort for words I spake,
But since she left me, this weary while,
My heart is learning the way to break,
Mary a-stor,
Mary a-stor,
Quick is my learning — and bitter the lore!

Mary of Carrick, 'tis you I must follow,
For where you are 'tis there I must be —
On mountain gray, or in heathery hollow,
Or where the salt wind blows from the sea.
Mary a-stor,
Mary a-stor.
When I find I shall bind you, nor lose evermore!