Will Ye Go To The Indies, My Mary

By Robert Burns

To Mary Campbell.

I.

Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,
And leave auld Scotia's shore?
Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,
Across th' Atlantic's roar?

II.

O sweet grows the lime and the orange,
And the apple on the pine;
But a' the charms o' the Indies
Can never equal thine.

III.

I hae sworn by the Heavens to my Mary,
I hae sworn by the Heavens to be true;
And sae may the Heavens forget me,
When I forget my vow!

IV.

O plight me your faith, my Mary,
And plight me your lily-white hand;
O plight me your faith, my Mary,
Before I leave Scotia's strand.

V.

We hae plighted our troth, my Mary,
In mutual affection to join;
And curst be the cause that shall part us!
The hour and the moment o' time!

Notes to the poem:

"In my very early years," says the poet, in a letter to Mr. Thomson in 1792, "when I was thinking of going to the West Indies, I took this farewell of a dear girl [Highland Mary]."

Burns's other poems of Highland Mary
To Mary In Heaven
Burns's Lament to Mary
The Highland Lassie
Highland Mary