Smile down, O Sun on Foremass;
With jewels bright adorn,
Damp webs by fairy weavers
Hung out on whin and thorn –
To glad my Mary, driving
Her cattle forth at morn.

O, grove of trees wide spreading!
A pleasant shelter prove
From burning heat of noonday,
And croon sweet lays of love –
When Mary walks beneath you
O happy, honoured grove!

With scent of fading flowers,
With breath of peat and hay,
O gently, sofly kiss her,
Ye autumn winds that stray
When Mary comes to meet me
Across the whinny brae.

Wave golden corn to greet her –
Her hair is golden too;
Fair be thy skies, O Sunset!
To match her eyes of blue –
When home she drives her cattle
And waves her love adieu.