Wheeler, Les
Source: Highland Mary - Thomas Faed
O lassie wi your bonnie face
An bodice trimm'd wi cantie lace;
Your cheeks o palest reed wid grace
The finest lady.
Your lips o rose wid find a place
In bower shady.
But Fate decreed its fevered plan
An Death stravaiged the stricken lan'
Snatchin frae Robert Burns' haun
His Hielan lass
An aa his warld wis turned tae san'
A bitter blash.
Your legend built on lover's pain
Your beauty ilka year wid gain;
Till frae the yird your banes wir taen
An flayed your fame.
A bairn's kist wi yours had lain,
Sae damn'd your name!
Lassie, ignore the girnin crew.
The warld'll tak the airtist's cue;
The barfit beauty that they view
Is whit they'll cairry
In herts aye reachin oot tae you,
Fair Hielan Mary!