_"Mary, weep no more for me."_--There is a well-known ballad of this name,
said to have been written by a Scotchman named "Low." The first verse runs
thus:
"The moon had climbed the highest hill,
Which rises o'er the source of Dee,
And from the eastern summit sped
Its silver light on tower and tree."
I find, however, amongst my papers, a fragment of a version of this same
ballad, of, I assume, earlier antiquity, which so surpasses Low's ballad
that the author has little to thank him for his interference. The first
verse of what I take to be the original poem stands thus:
"The moon had climbed the highest hill,
Where eagles big[2] aboon the Dee,
And like the looks of a lovely dame,
Brought joy to every body's ee."
No poetical reader will require his attention to be directed to the
immeasurable superiority of this glorious verse: the high poetic animation,
the eagles' visits, the lovely looks of female beauty, the exhilarating
gladness and joy affecting the beholder, all manifest the genius of the
master bard. I shall receive it as a favour if any of your correspondents
will furnish a complete copy of the original poem, and contrast it with
what "Low" fancied his "improvements."