Page:Scotch songs.pdf/3

3 Then to his bags he flew wi' speed,
 * About the drone he twisted;

Meg up and wallop'd o'er the green,
 * For brawly could she frisk it.

Weel done, quoth he: play up, quoth she:
 * Weel bob'd, quoth Rob the Ranter;

'Tis worth ray while to play, indeed,
 * When I hae sic a dancer.

Weel hae you play'd your part, quoth Meg,
 * Your cheeks are like the crimson;

There's nane in Scotland plays sae weel,
 * Since we lost Habby Simson.

I've liv'd in Fife, baith maid and wife,
 * These ten years and a quarter;

Gin you should come to Auster Fair,
 * Speir ye for Maggie Lauder.

Katharine Ogie.

AS walking forth to view the plain,
 * Upon a morning early,

While May's sweet scent did cheer my brain,
 * From flow'rs which grew so rarely:

I chanc'd to meet a pretty maid,
 * She shin'd though it was foggy:

I ask'd her name: Sweet Sir, she said,
 * My name is Katharine Ogie.