KATHARINE OGIE.
As walking forth to view the plain,
Upon a morning early,
While May's sweet scent did cheer my brain,
From flowers which grew so rarely;
I chanced to meet a pretty maid,
She shined though it was fogie:
I asked her name; sweet Sir, she said,
My name is Kath'rine Ogie.
I stood a while, and did admire,
To see a nymph so stately;
So brisk an air there did appear
In a country maid so neatly:—
Such nat'ral sweetness she displayed,
Like lilies in a bogie;
Diana's self was ne'er arrayed
Like this same Kath'rine Ogie.
Thou flow'r of females, beauty's queen,
Who sees thee sure must prize thee;
Though thou art drest in robes but mean,
Yet these cannot disgnise thee;
Thy handsome air, and graceful look,
Excels each clownish rogie;
Thou'rt match for laird, or lord, or duke,
My charming Kath'rine Ogie.
O! were I bnt some shepherd swain,
To feed my flock beside thee:
At bughting-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 Kath’rine Ogie.
Then I’d despise th’ imperial throne,
And statesmen’s dang’rous stations,
I’d be no king, I’d wear no crown,
I’d smile at conqu’ring nations,
Might I caress, and still possess
This lass of whom I’m vogie;
For they are toys, and still look less,
Compared with Kath’rine Ogie.
I fear the gods have not decreed
For me so fine a creature,
Whose beauty rare makes her exceed
All other works in nature.
Clouds of despair surround my love,
That are bath dark and foggie;
Pity my case, ye powers above!
Else I die for Kath’rine Ogie.