Mary of Carrick has gone away
From our pleasant places, down to the sea,
She has put a loss on our mountain gray,
She has drained the joy from the heart o' me,

Mary a-stor,
Mary a-stor,
Black hair, black eyes, I am grieving sore!
Mary of Carrick is small and sweet–
My Share of the World, how sweet were you
Tripping along on little bare feet
With your milking-pails through the rainbow dew?

Mary a-stor,
Mary a-stor,
The sun was a shadow with you to the fore!
Mary of Carrick gave only a smile–
No word of comfort for words I spake,
But since she left me, this weary while,
My heart is learning the way to break,

Mary a-stor,
Mary a-stor,
Quick is my learning–and bitter the lore!
Mary of Carrick, 'tis you I must follow,
For where you are 'tis there I must be–
On mountain gray, or in heathery hollow,
Or where the salt wind blows from the sea.

Mary a-stor,
Mary a-stor,
When I find I shall bind you. nor lose evermore!