Chapter 1 No.1

Sparkle of snow and of frost,

Blythe air and the joy of cold,

Their grace and good they have lost,

As print o' her foot by the fold.

Let me back to yon desert sand,

Rose-lipped love-from the fold,

Flower-fair girl-from the fold,

Let me back to the sultry land.

The world is empty of cheer,

Forlorn, forlorn, and forlorn,

As the night-owl's sob of fear,

As Memnon moaning at morn.

For love of thee, my dear,

I have lived a better man,

O my Mary Anne,

My Mary Anne.