. British musical miscellany : being a collection of Scotch, English, & Irish songs set to music. re must prize thee ;Tho thou art drest in robes but mean, Yet these cannot disguise thee :Thy handsome air, and graceful look, Excels each clownish rogie ;Thourt match for laird, or lord, or duke? My charming Kathrine Ogie. O ! were I but some shepherd-swain, To feed my flock beside thee ;At bughting-time to leave the plain, In milking to abide thee ;Id think myself a happier man, With Kate, my club, and dogie, IIThan he that hugs his thousands ten, Had I but Kathrine Ogie. Then Id despise th impe
. British musical miscellany : being a collection of Scotch, English, & Irish songs set to music. re must prize thee ;Tho thou art drest in robes but mean, Yet these cannot disguise thee :Thy handsome air, and graceful look, Excels each clownish rogie ;Thourt match for laird, or lord, or duke? My charming Kathrine Ogie. O ! were I but some shepherd-swain, To feed my flock beside thee ;At bughting-time to leave the plain, In milking to abide thee ;Id think myself a happier man, With Kate, my club, and dogie, IIThan he that hugs his thousands ten, Had I but Kathrine Ogie. Then Id despise th imperial throne, And statesmens dangrous stations ;Id be no king, Id wear no crown, Fd smile at conquring nations ;Might I caress, and still possess This lass of whom Im vogie ;For they are toys, and still look less, Compard with Kathrine Ogie, 103 But I fear the gods have not decreed For me so fine a creature ;Whose beauty rare makes her exceed All other works of despair surround my love, That are both dark and my care, ye Powers above, Else I die for Katharine Ogie !. 10 i SONG XLIX. Higliland Mary. To the foregoing Tune. Ye banks, and braes, and streams, around The castle of Montgomery,Green be your woods, and fair your flowrs^ Your waters never simmer first unfaulds her robes, And there does langest tarry ;Twas there I took the last fareweel, Of my dear Highland Mary. How sweetly bloomd the gay green birk* How rich the hawthorns blossom :As underneath their fragrant shade; I claspd her to my bosom !The golden hours, on angel wings* Flew oer me and my dearie ;For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi monv a vow, and lockd embrace, Our parting was fu tender ;And pledging aft to meet again, We tore Ourselves oh ! fell deaths untimely frost, Has nipt my flowr so early ;Now greens the sod, and caulds the clay That wraps my Highland Mary ! 105 O pale, pale now, those rosy lips, I aft hae kissd sae fondly !And
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