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 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 disgnisedisguise [sic] 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 bntbut [sic] 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,