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KATE O' GOWRIE.

When Katie was scarce out nineteen,
O but she had twa coal-black con;
A bonnier lass ye wadna seen,
In a' the Carse o' Gowrie.
Quite tir'd o' livin' a' his lane,
Pate to her did his love explain,
An' swore he'd be, were she his ain,
The happiest lad in Gowrie.

Quo' she, I winna marry thee,
For a' the gear that ye can gie;
Nor will I gang ae step a-jee,
For a' the gowd o' Gowrie.
My father will gie me twa kye,
My mither's gaun some yarn to dye;
I'll get a gown just like the sky,
Gif l'll no gang to Gowrie.

O my dear Katie, say na sae,
Ye little ken a heart that's wae;
Hae, there's my hand, hear me, I pray,
Sin' thou'll no gang to Gowrie.
Since first I met thee at the shiel,
My saul to thee's been true and leal;
The darkest night I fear nae deil,
Warlock, or witch, in Gowrie.

I fear nae want o' claise, nor nought;