JOHN HAY'S bonny Laffie..
Y fmooth winding Tay a fwain was reclining,
B After dhe, Oh hey? maun I ftill live pining
Myfell thus away, and darna discover
To my bonny Hay that I am her lover?
Nae mair it will hide, the flame waxes ftranger;
If fhe's not my bride, my days are nae langer :
Then I'll take a heart, and try at a venture,
May be, ere we part,, my vows may content her.
She's fresh as the fpring, and fweet as Aurora, When birds mount and fing, bidding day a good morThe fward of the mead, enamel'd with daifies, [row. Look wither'd and dead, when twin'd of her graces.
But if the appear where verdures invite her, The fountains run clear, and flowers fmell the sweeter : 'Tis heaven to be by, when her wit is a-flowing, Her fmiles and bright eye fet my fpirits a-glowing.
The mair that I gaze, the deeper I'm wounded; Struck dumb with amaze, my mind is confounded : I'm all on a fire, dear maid, to carefs ye, For a' my defire is Hay's bonny laffie.
S walking forth to view the plain,
Upon a morning early,
While May's fweet fcent did chear my
From flow'rs which grew fo rarely :
I chanc'd to meet a pretty maid,
She fhin'd though it was foggy;
I afk'd her name: Sweet Sir, she said,
My name is Katharine Ogie.
I ftood a while, and did admire,
To fee a nymph fo stately;
So brifk an air there did appear
In a country-maid so neatly :
Such natural fweetnefs fhe difplay'd,
Like a lilie in a boggie ;
Diana's felf was ne'er array'd
Like this fame Katharine Ogie.
Thou flow'r of females, beauty's queen,
Who fees thee, fure muft prize thee;
Though thou art drefs'd in robes but mean,
Yet thefe cannot disguise thee;
Thy handsome air, and graceful look,
Far excels any clownish rogie;
Thou'rt match for laird, or lord, or duke,
My charming Katharine Ogie.
O were I but fome fhepherd fwain !
'To feed my flock befide thee,
At boughting-time to leave the plain,
In milking to abide thee;
I'd think myself a happier man,
With Kate, my club, and dogie, Than he that hugs his thousands ten, Had I but Katharine Ogie.
Then I'd defpife th' imperial throne,
And statesmens dang'rous ftations :
I'd be no king, I'd wear no crown,
I'd fmile at conquʼring nations:
Might I carefs and ftill poffefs
This lafs of whom I'm vogie;
For these are toys, and ftill look lefs,
Compar'd with Katharine Ogie.
But I fear the gods have not decreed
For me fo fine a creature,
Whofe beauty rare makes her exceed
All other works in nature.
Clouds of defpair furround my love,
That are both dark and foggy :
Pity my cafe, ye powers above,
Élfe I die for Katharine Ogie..
An thou were my ain Thing.
Frace divine thou needs must be,
Since nothing earthly equals thee;
For heaven's fake, oh! favour me,
Who only lives to love thee.
An thou were my ain thing,
I would love thee, I would love thee;
An thou were my ain thing,
How dearly would I love thee!
Flames ftronger ftill, will ne'er have done
Till fates my thread of life have spun,
Which breathing out I'll love thee.
Like bees that fuck the morning dew,
Frae flowers of sweetest scent and hew,
Sae wad I dwell upo' thy mou,
And gar the gods envy me. :
An thou were, &c.
Sae lang's I had the use of light,
I'd on thy beauties feaft my fight,
Syne in faft whispers through the night,
I'd tell how much I loo'd thee.
How fair and ruddy is my Jean?
She moves a goddess o'er the green ;
Were I a king, thou fhould be queen,
Nane but myfell aboon thee.
An thou were, &c.
I'd grafp thee to this breast of mine,
Whilft thou, like ivy, or the vine,
Around my stronger limbs fhou'd twine,
Form'd hardly to defend thee.
An thou were, &c.
Time's on the wing, and will not stay,
In fhining youth let's make our hay;
Since love admits of nae delay,
O let nae fcorn undo thee.
An thou were, &c.
While love does at his altar ftand,
Hae there's my heart, gi'e me thy hand,
And, with ilk fmile, thou fhalt command
The will of him wha loves thee.
There's my Thumb I'll ne'er beguile thee.
Y fweeteft May, let love incline thee,
T' accept a heart which he designs thee;
And, as your conftant flave, regard it,
Syne for its faithfulness reward it.
"Tis proof a-fhot to birth or money,
But yields to what is fweet and bonny;
Receive it then with a kifs and a smily,
There's my thumb it will ne'er beguile ye.
How tempting fweet thefe lips of thine are,
Thy bofom white, and legs fae fine are,
That, when in pools, I fee thee clean 'em ;
They carry away my heart between 'em.
I wish, and I wish, while it gaes duntin,
O gin I had thee on a mountain,
Though kith and kin and a' fhou'd revile thee,
There's my thumb I'll ne'er beguile thee.
Alane through flow'ry hows I dander,
Tenting my flocks left they fhou'd wander,
Gin thou'll gae alang, I'll dawt thee gaylie,
And gi'e my thumb I'll ne'er beguile thee.
my dear laffie, it is but daffin,
To had thy wooer up ay niff naffin.
That na, na, na, I hate it moft vilely,
O fay, Yes, and I'll ne'er beguile thee.
Ne'er a fit, quo' Jeany, for my tocher-good,
a
For my tocher-good, I winna marry thee.
E'ens ye like, quo' Jonny, ye may let it be.
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