3
O! were I but 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,
Than he that hugs his thousands ten,
Had I but Kath'rine Ogie.
Then I'd despise th' imperial throne,
And statesmen's dang'rous stations,
I’d be no king, I'd wear no crown,
I'd smile at conqu’ring nations,
Might I caress, and still possess
This lass of whom I'm vogie;
For they are toys, and still look less,
Compared with Kath'rine 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,
That are both dark and foggie;
Pity my case, ye powers above!
Else I die for Kath’rine Ogie.
JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO.
John Anderson, my jo, John,
When we were first acquent,
