Mary Helen from the Hill

The flaggy wheat is in the ear
At the low end of the town
And the barley horns begin to spear
Frae the spindle through the crown
The black snail he has crept abroad
In dangers ways to run
And midges oer the road
Are dancing in the sun
Where firdales darkest shadows leave
Sweet Mary Hellen walks at eve

In the deep dyke grows the reed
The bullrush wabbles deeper still
And oval leaves of water weed
The dangerous deeper places fill
The river winds and feels no ill
How lovely sinks the setting sun
The fish leaps up with trembling trill
Grasshoppers chirrup on the reed
The mead so green the air so still
Evening assembles sweet indeed
With Mary Hellen from the Hill
Who wanders by that rivers brim
In dewy flowers and shadows dim.

Right merrily the midges dance
Above the river stream
Their wings like silver atoms glance
In evenings golden beam
The boat track by the rivers side
Where Mary Hellen roves
The cloud sky where the river wide
The banks of willow groves
And Mary Hellen in young pride
Rambling by the river side—
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