To Mary Campbell.

I.         Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,             And leave old Scotia's shore?         Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,             Across th' Atlantic's roar? II.         O sweet grows the lime and the orange,             And the apple on the pine;         But a' the charms o' the Indies             Can never equal thine. III.         I hae sworn by the Heavens to my Mary,             I hae sworn by the Heavens to be true;         And sae may the Heavens forget me             When I forget my vow! IV.         O plight me your faith, my Mary,             And plight me your lily white hand;         O plight me your faith, my Mary,             Before I leave Scotia's strand. V.         We hae plighted our troth, my Mary,             In mutual affection to join;         And curst be the cause that shall part us!             The hour and the moment o' time!