Carolina, Lady Nairne (1766–1845)

THERE’S cauld kail in Aberdeen,

There’s castocks in Stra’bogie,

And, morn and e’en, they’re blythe and bein,

That haud them frae the cogie.

Now haud ye frae the cogie, lads,

O bide ye frae the cogie,

I’ll tell ye true, ye’ll never rue

O passin’ by the cogie.

Young Will was braw and weel put on,

Sae blythe was he and vogie,

And he got bonnie Mary Don,

The flower o’ a’ Stra’bogie.

Wha wad hae thought, at wooin’ time,

He’d e’er forsaken Mary!

And ta’en him to the tipplin’ trade,

Wi’ boozin’ Rob and Harry.

Sair Mary wrought, sair Mary grat,

She scarce could lift the ladle,

Wi’ pithless feet, ’tween ilka greet,

She’d rock the borrow’d cradle.

Her weddin’ plenishin’ was gane,

She never thought to borrow;

Her bonnie face was waxin’ wan,

And Will wrought a’ the sorrow.

He’s reelin’ hame ae winter’s night,

Some later than the gloamin’;

He’s ta’en the rig, he’s miss’d the brig,

And Bogie’s owre him foamin’.

Wi’ broken banes, out owre the stanes

He creepit up Stra’bogie,

And a’ the nicht he prayed wi’ micht,

To keep him frae the cogie.

Now Mary’s heart is light again,

She’s neither sick nor silly;

For, auld or young, nae sinfu’ tongue

Could e’er entice her Willie.

And aye the sang thro’ Bogie rang,

O haud ye frae the cogie;

The weary gill’s the sairest ill

On braes o’ fair Stra’bogie.