Classic Poem

O Mary Barrie, Mary Barrie,
You bear a witching ballad name:
In some mossed dell it seems to tarry,
Till a brave tale shall form its frame.

And Mary Barrie, Mary Barrie,
You of the lureful ballad name:
Which of us all will be the quarry
When you are huntress, swift as flame?

The name, O Mary, Mary Barrie,
There's magic in your ballad name.
It rings as from a realm of faery,
It puts all other tones to shame.

But Mary Barrie, Mary Barrie,
What of the woman, wild or tame?
As to her heart, opinions vary;
As to her head, there's loud acclaim.

None other plays at thrust and parry,
With such rare skill the fencing game!
Not J.M.B. himself can carry
Wit to so proud a pitch of Fame.

But Mary Barrie, Mary Barrie,
Woe worth the ode that ends in blame;
Your promises are visionary,
Your vows are webs, capricious dame.