As I gaed in by Huntly toon, yin morning for tae fee I fell in wi' Bogie o' Cairnie and wi' him I did agree
Tae ca' his twa best horses, or cairt or harrie a ploo' Or dae onything aboot fairmwork I very well could do.
Now Bogie had a daughter, and her name was Isabel She was the flower o' the valley and the primrose o' the dell
And when she gaed oot walkin', she chose me for her guide Down by the burn o' Cairnie, tae watch sma' fishes glide
The first three months being past and o'er, this lassie lost her bloom An' the red fell frae her rosy cheeks and her eyes began to swoon
When nine long months were past and gane, she brought forth tae me a son And I was quickly called for tae see what could be done
I said that I would marry her but no, that wudna do For, “You're no' a match for ma bonny Belle, an' she's no' a match for you”
Well now she's married tae a tinkler chiel, wha bides in Huntly toon He mends pots and pans and paraffin lamps, an' he scours the country roon
Aye, an' maybe she's gotten a better lad; auld Bogie cannae tell So fareweel ye lads o' Huntlyside and Bogie's bonnie BelleTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
