We Are Coming Sister Mary


We Are Coming Sister Mary.

On a stormy night in winter,
When the winds blew cold and wet,
I heard some strains of music
That I never can forget.
I was sitting in my cabin,
With my Mary fair and young,
When a light shone in the windows,
And a band of singers sung.

I tried to call my Mary,
But my tongue would not obey,
’Till the song so strange had ended,
And the singers flown away.
Then I woke her from her slumbers,
And told her every thing,
But I could not guess the meaning
Of the songs I heard them sing.

When the next night came I heard them,
And the third night too they sung,
While I sat beside the pillow,
Of my Mary fair and young;
As I watched I heard a rustling,
Like the rustling of a wing,
And near my Mary’s pillow,
Very soon I heard them sing.

I tried to wake my Mary,
But my sorrow was complete,
When I found her heart of kindness,
Had forever ceased to beat,
And now I’m very lonely,
From Summer round to Spring,
And oft in midnight slumbers,
I seem to hear them sing.

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