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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79.

Dee, the River

On the Banks of the Dee

By Anonymous

THE MOON had climbed the highest hill

That rises o’er the banks of Dee,

And from her farthest summit poured

Her silver light o’er tower and tree,

When Mary laid her down to sleep,

Her thoughts on Sandy far at sea,

And soft and low a voice she heard,

Saying, “Mary, weep no more for me.”

She from her pillow gently raised

Her head, to see who there might be;

She saw young Sandy shivering stand,

With pallid cheek and hollow ee.

“O Mary dear, cold is my clay;

It lies beneath the stormy sea;

The storm is past, and I ’m at rest;

So, Mary, weep no more for me.”

Loud crew the cock; the vision fled;

No more young Sandy could she see;

But soft a parting whisper said,

“Sweet Mary, weep no more for me.”