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.
