Catherine Ogie (1820)/Catherine Ogie

For other versions of this work, see Kath'rine Ogie.

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CATHRINE 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 shin'd though it was foggie,
I ask'd her name, sweet sir, she said,
My name is Cathrine Ogie.

I stood awhile, and did admire
To see a nymph so stately;
So brisk in air she did appear
In a country maid so neatly;
Such ⟨natural⟩ sweetness she display'd;
Like lilies in a bogie,
Diana's self was ne'er array'd
Like this same Kathrine Ogie.

Thou flow'r of females, beauty's queen,
Who sees thee, sure must prize thee;
Tho’ thou art drest in robes but mean,
Yet these cannot disguise thee:
The hansome air and graceful look
Excell each clownish rogie;
Thou'rt match for laird, or lord, or Duke,
My charming Cathrine Ogie.

O were I but some shepherd swain,
To feed my flocks beside thee
At bughting-time to leave the plain,
In milking to abide thee;
I'd think myself a happier man
Wi Kate, my club, and dogie,
Than he that hugs bis thousand ten,
Had I but Cathrine Ogie.

Then I'd despise th' imperial throne,
And statemens dangerous stations;
I'd be no king. I'll wear no crown,
I'd smile at conquering nations,
Might I caress and still posess
This lass of whom I'm vogie,
For they are toys, and still look less,
Compar'd with Cathrine 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,
They are both dark and foggie;
Pity my case, ye powers above!
Else I die for Cathrine Ogie.