| As I came in by Huntly Town
|
| One morning for to feed
|
| I met with Bogey of Lenny
|
| And with him I did agree
|
| To bide his two best horses
|
| The harrow and the plough
|
| And do anything about the farm
|
| That I very well should know
|
| Now Bogey had a daughter dear
|
| Her name was Isabel
|
| And she was the fairest in the vale
|
| And I’m sure I loved her well
|
| And when she went a-walking
|
| She took me as her guide
|
| Down by the banks of the Lenny
|
| To watch the small fishes glide
|
| And I put my arm all around her waist
|
| And her feet from her did slide
|
| It’s there she took her will of me
|
| At Lenny waterside
|
| And she swore she’d never tell of me
|
| And the wild birds wouldn’t tell
|
| Of my lily of the valley
|
| My red rose in the dell
|
| And now when nine months were gone and past
|
| This lassy lost her bloom
|
| The red fell from her rosy cheeks
|
| And her eyes began to swoon
|
| It was just before the harvest time
|
| When Bogey sent for me
|
| And he said, his face as black as night
|
| It’s you I wish to see
|
| And if what my daughter says is true
|
| We no longer shall agree
|
| And it’s down the road you’ll go right now
|
| And not a penny of your fee
|
| Well said I, my man you’re fairly right
|
| And I hung my head in shame
|
| But I’ll marry her tomorrow morn
|
| And I’ll give to her my name
|
| So I took my young son in my arms
|
| And joy to him I’ll bring
|
| And maybe he’ll mean as much to me
|
| As the girl that I adore |