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• Lay your head here, Mary,
• Lay your head here,
• While the warm blown grass, Mary,
• With timid voice and wary,
• Sings in your ear:—

• The grass which round us, Mary,
• Shuts like a nest;
• By your dear limbs, dear Mary,
• Lighter than limbs of Faëry,
• 10Daintily press'd.

• Back with it all though, Mary,
• Back and aside;
• The wind comes this way, Mary,
• And here the trees are airy
• And the skies are wide.

• What do your eyes fear, Mary,
• So grave & soft?
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• I love to see them, Mary,
• In whimsical vagary
• 20Lifted aloft.

• Mary, Mary, Mary,
• Laugh in my face:
• You know now, my own Mary,
• No eyes can laugh so rarely
• Or grant such grace.

• Your cheek is pale now, Mary,
• And red, by turns.
• Why should the hand be chary
• Of that to give which, Mary,
• 30The heart so yearns?

• Give me your hand, ah! Mary,
• Give me your hand;
• In city or in prairie
• There is none kinder, Mary,
• From land to land.

• Your lips to my lips, Mary,
• Your lips to mine:
• High up in Hebe's dairy
• No milk so sweet, my Mary,
• 40On earth no wine.

• Lay your head here, Mary,
• Lay your head here;
• While my heart now, Mary,
• The pleasant tune to vary,
• Beats in your ear.

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