Classic Poem

Through Cruikston Castle's lonely wa's,
The wintry wind howls wild and dreary,
Though mirk the cheerless e'ening fa's,
Yet I hae vow'd to meet my Mary.
Yes, Mary, though the winds shou'd rave,
Wi' jealous spite, to keep me frae thee,
The darkest stormy night I'd brave
For ae sweet secret moment wi' thee.

Loud o'er Cordonald's rocky steep,
Rude Cartha pours in boundless measure,
But I will ford the whirling deep,
That roars between me and my treasure.
Yes, Mary, though the torrent rave,
With jealous spite, to keep me frae thee,
Its deepest flood I'd bauldly brave
For ae sweet secret moment wi' thee.

The watch-dog's howling loads the blast,
And makes the nightly wand'rer eerie,
But when the lonesome way is past,
I'll to this bosom clasp my Mary.
Yes, Mary, though stern winter rave,
With a' his storms, to keep me frae thee,
The wildest dreary night I'll brave
For ae sweet secret moment wi' thee.