John Lowe, the author of this poem, was born at Kenmure, parish of Kells, Kircudbrightshire, Scotland, in 1750. His father was a gardener, and at the age of 14 John was apprenticed to a weaver, but in 1771 he was enabled to go to the University of Edinburgh. Later he entered the family of Mr. McGhie of Airds, whose house was located on an elevated piece of ground washed by the Dee and Ken, a spot reverenced by Lowe for its beauty. Within the grounds he erected a rural seat environed with honeysuckle, woodbine, and other shrubs, which is known to this day as “Lowe’s Seat,” and there he composed many of his most beautiful verses.

The moon had climbed the highest hill
That rises o’er the source of Dee,
And from the eastern summit shed
Her silver light on tower and tree;
When Mary laid her down to sleep,
Her thoughts on Sandy far at sea;
When, soft and low, a voice was heard,
Saying, “Mary, weep no more for me.”

She from her pillow gently raised
Her head to ask who there might be,
And saw young Sandy shivering stand,
With visage pale and hollow e’e.
“O, Mary dear, cold is my clay,
It lies beneath a stormy sea;
Far, far from thee I sleep in death,
So, Mary, weep no more for me.

“Three stormy nights and stormy days
We tossed upon the raging main;
And long we strove our barque to save,
But all our striving was in vain.
Even then, when horror chilled my blood,
My heart was filled with love for thee.
The storm is past and I at rest,
So, Mary, weep no more for me.

“O, maiden dear, thyself prepare!
We soon shall meet upon that shore
Where love is free from doubt and care,
And thou and I shall part no more!”
Loud crowed the cock, the shadow fled;
No more of Sandy could she see,
But soft the passing spirit said,
“Sweet Mary, weep no more for me!”