Beauty can wonders work with ease,
Where wit is corresponding ;
And braveft men know best to please,
With complaifance abounding.
My bonny Maggy's love can turn
Me to what shape she pleases,
If in her breaft that flame fhall burn,
Which in my bosom blazes.
T Polwart on the green
If you'll meet me the morn,
Where laffes do convene
To dance about the thorn.
A kindly welcome you shall meet
Frae her wha likes to view
A lover and a lad compleat,
The lad and lover you.
Let dorty dames fay Na,
As lang as e'er they please,
Seem caulder than the fna',
While inwardly they bleez;
But I will frankly fhaw my mind,
And yield my heart to thee;
Be ever to the captive kind,
That langs na to be free.
At Polwart on the green,
Amang the new-mawn hay,
With fangs and dancing keen
We'll pass the heartsome day.
At night, if beds be o'er thrang laid,
And thou be twin'd of thine,
Thou shall be welcome, my dear lad,
To take a part of mine.
JOHN HAY's bonny Laffie.
Y fmooth winding Tay a fwain was reclining, Aft cry'd he, Oh hey! maun I ftill live pining My fell thus away, and darna discover
To my bonny Hay that I am her lover?
Nae mair it will hide, the flame waxes ftranger; If fhe's not my bride, my days are nae langer : Then I'll take a heart, and try at a venture, May be, e'er we part, my vows may content her.
She's fresh as the fpring, and fweet as Aurora, When birds mount and fing, bidding day a good morThe fward of the mead, enamel'd with daifies, (row, Look wither'd and dead, when twin'd of her graces.
But if the appear where verdures invite her, The fountains run clear, and flowers fmell the fweeter: "Tis heaven to be by, when her wit is a flowing, Her fmiles and right eye fet my fpirits a glowing.
The mair that I gaze the deeper I'm wounded ;. Struck dumb with amaze, my mind is confounded : I'm all in a fire, dear maid, to caress ye, For a' my defire is Hay's bonny laffie.
S walking forth to view the plain,
Upon a morning early,
While May's fweet fcent did chear my brain,
From flowers which grow fo rarely:
I chanc'd to meet a pretty maid,
She fhin'd tho' it was fogie;
I ask'd her name: Sweet Sir, she said,
My name is Katharine Ogie.
I flood a while, and did admire,
To fee a nymph so stately;
So brisk an air there did appear
In a country maid fo neatly:
Such natural fweetness she display'd,
Like a lillie in a bogie ;
Diana's felf was ne'er array'd
Like this fame Katharine Ogie.
Thou flow'r of females, beauty's queen,
Who fees thee, fure must prize thee;
Tho' thou art dreft in robes but mean,
Yet these cannot difguife thee:
Thy handsome air, and graceful look,
Far excels any clownish rogie;
Thou'rt match for laird, or lord, or duke,
My charming Katharine Ogie.
O were I but some shepherd-fwain !
To feed my flock befide thee,
At boughting time to leave the plain,
In milking to abide thee;
I'd think myfelf a happier man,
With Kate, my club, and dogie,
Than he that hugs his thousands ten,
Had I but Katharine Ogie.
Then I'd defpife th' imperial throne,
And ftatefmens dangerous ftations:
I'd be no king, I'd wear no crown,
I'd fmile at conquering nations:
Might I caress and still poffefs
This lafs, of whom I'm vogie;
For these are toys and ftill look lefs,
Compar'd with Katharine Ogie.
But I fear the Gods have not decreed
For me fo fine a creature,
Whose beauty rare makes her exceed
All other works in nature.
Clouds of defpair furround my love,
That are both dark and fogie:
Pity my cafe, ye powers above,
Elfe I die for Katharine Ogie.
Ann thou were my ain Thing.
F race divine thou needs muft be,
Since nothing earthly equals thee;
For heaven's fake, oh! favour me,
Who only lives to love thee.
Ann thou were my ain thing,
I would love thee, I would love thee;
Ann thou were my ain thing,
How dearly would I love thee !
The Gods one thing peculiar have,
To ruin none whom they can fave;
O! for their fake, fupport a flave,
Who only lives to love thee.
Ann thou were, &c.
To merit I no claim can make,
But that I love, and for your fake,
What man can name, I'll undertake,
So dearly do I love thee.
Ann thou were, &c.
My paffion, conftant as the fun,
Flames ftronger ftill, will ne'er have done
Till fates my thread of life have spun,
Which breathing out, I'll love thee.
Ann thou were, &c.
Like bees that fuck the morning dew,
Frae flowers of sweetest scent and hew,
Sae wad I dwell upo' thy mou,
And gar the Gods envy me.
Ann thou were, &c.
Sae lang's I had the ufe of light,
I'd on thy beauties feaft my fight,
Syne in faft whispers through the night,
I'd tell how much I loo'd thee.
Ann thou were, &c.
How fair and ruddy is my fean,
She moves a Goddefs o'er the green;
Were I a king, thou fhould be queen,
Nane but my fell aboon thee.
Ann thou were, &c.
I'd grafp thee to this breaft of mine,
Whilft thou, like ivy, or the vine,
Around my stronger limbs fhou'd twine,
Form'd hardy to defend thee.
Time's on the wing, and will not stay,
In fhining youth let's make our hay,
Since love admits of nae delay,
O let nae fcorn undo thee.
Ann thou were, &c.
While love does at his altar ftand,
Hae there's my heart, gi'e me thy hand,
And, with ilk fmile thou fhalt command
The will of him wha loves thee.
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