The moon had climb'd the highest hill,
Which rises o'er the source of Dee
And from its eastern summit shed,
Her silver light o'er tow'r & tree
When Mary laid her down to sleep,
Her thoughts on Sandy far at sea.
When soft & low a voice was heard,
O Mary weep no more for me.

She from her pillow gently rais'd
Her ehad to ask who there might be.
She saw young Sandy shiv'ring stand
With pallid cheek, a hollow eye.
O Mary dear! cold is my clay
It lies beneath a stormy sea;
Far, far from thee I sleep in death,
So Mary, weep no more for me.

Three stormy nights & stormy days
We toss'd upon the raging main
And long we strove our bark to save,
But all our striving was in vain.
For then, when horror chill'd my blood,
My heart was fill'd with love & Thee;
The storm is past and I at rest,
So Mary, weep no more for me.

O maiden dear thyself prepare
We soon shall meet upon that shore
Where love is free from doubt or care,
And Thou & I shall part no more.
Loud crow'd the cock! the shadow fled
No more of Sandy could she see,
But soft the passing spirit said,
Sweet Mary, weep no more for me.