Classic Poem

There's the hill-road to Ardmore, Mary,
Here's the glen-road to Ardstrae:
Your home is younder, Mary,
And mine lies this way.

Will you come by the glen, Mary,
Or go the hill-road to Ardmore?
It is now and as you will, Mary,
For I will ask no more.

'Tis but a score years, Mary;
Since I bade you to Ardstrae;
And now you are not there, Mary
Nor walk the hill-side way.

Is it only a score years, Mary,
Since we parted by the shore,
And I watched you go, Mary,
By the hill-road to Ardmore?