Mary Of Crofton

AH! a lovely jewel was Mary of Crofton,
And now she is cold in the clay,
We think of the heart-cheering image as often
As we pass down the old waggon way.

Her air was a magical air, and the very
Stone heart of the stoic entranced;
While her wee, wee feet beat a measure as merry
As ever by damsel was danced.

Her accents enchanted; her lay-but the silly
Bit linnet to vie it would seek;
And the rose in her hair was a daffadowndilly
Compared with the rose on her cheek.

Sue, Bessy, and Kitty still ornament Crofton,
And rich are the charms they display;
But we miss the sweet image of Mary as often
As we pass down the old waggon way.