BLUE-EYED MARY



Come tell me, blue-eyed stranger,

Say whither doe’st thy roam?

Over this wide world a ranger,

Hast thou no friend or home?



They call’d me blue-eyed Mary,

When friends and fortunes smiled,

But oh, how fortunes vary,

I now am sorrows child.



Come here, I’ll buy thy flowers,

And east thy hapless lot;

Still wet with warming showers,

I’ll buy for get-me-not.



Kind sir, then take these posies,

They are fading like my youth;

But never like these roses,

Shall wither Mary’s truth.



Look up thou poor forsaken,

I’ll give thee house and home;

And if I am not mistaken,

Thou will never wish to roam.



Born thus to weep my fortune,

Though poor I’ll virtuous prove;

I early learnt this caution,

That pity is not love.



No, no sweet blue-eyed stranger,

I’ll not give thee hand and heart;

Be not a friendless ranger,

We never more will part.



Once more I am happy Mary,

Once more has fortuned smiled;

Who never from virtue vary;

May yet be fortunes child.