Classic Poem

The gouden clouds o'er westling sky's Where the retireing day
On goud and crimson cushions lies While a' the east is grey
Grey with the dewy fa' o' e'en That pearls the earths green breast
How beautiful the sky is seen O'er Mary O' the West

She lives beneath yon dappled sky And goud and siller clouds
Where dark blue mountains pileing lye And night in e'ening shrouds
I wonder as I often do If fields o' blossomed thorn
Are seen by foreign Marys eye As here both e'en and morn.

If so we both are gazeing now Upon the self same things
The daisy sward the may bush bough The clouds o' gouden wings
And shoud the self same thoughts as mine Now fill her snowy breast
I shoud in these soft moments join Sweet Mary o' the West.

To lean upon her snowy breast Where sea waves gently swirl
And kiss her neck for sweeter rest Where inky ringlets curl
I kiss her lip sae Cherry ripe With soft endearments blest
Nip her white hand with gentle gripe Sweet Mary o' the West.