droll, since they sought and found them in many a situation and circumstance where few lyric poets of the present age would venture to seek for them. Who would now, when the stocking is thrown and the bridesmaid barred out, make the bridegroom get up and greet for gruel? Yet our forefathers laughed sometimes when we should think mirth unpolite. I remember the remains of an old song which, bequeathing its name to a popular air, still survives as a specimen of the humour of ancient days. It may still be remembered under the name of "The Bridegroom greets when the sun gangs down." Of the little left I shall give a specimen :- shoon; It's lang till day, quo' the silly bridegroom, Come in to your bride, thou silly bridegroom, But I dare not quote any more of this lively lyric: the invitation of the bridesmaid and the answer of the bridegroom might please a less scrupulous generation, but they would make ours blush. O'ER BOGIE. I will awa' wi' my love, Tho' a' my kin had sworn and said, If I can get but her consent, I dinna care a strae ; For now she's mistress of my heart, For siller or for land. Let rakes delyte to swear and drink, There a' the beauties do combine, Of colour, treats, and air, Makes her a jewel rare: Her flowing wit gives shining life To a' her other charms; How bless'd I'll be when she's my wife, And lock'd up in my arms! There blithely will I rant and sing, I'll cry, Your humble servant, king! The right ye hae to Britain's isle, And offer me ye'r crown. The oral fragments I have collected of this song are unworthy of the popular air. "O'er Bogie" is used as a proverbial expression; those who are wedded by a magistrate instead of their parish minister make what is called an "O'er Bogie marriage," which merits and generally obtains the censure of the kirk. Some of the fragments are curious. Though all her kin had sworn her dead, I'll o'er Bogie wi' her: I'll o'er Bogie, o'er Bogie, O'er Bogie wi' her; She's far far o'er sweet a quean For me to stay frae her. From the old verses Allan Ramsay borrowed the chorus, and added the song for his collection. It was published by Thomson in 1725. The air is a great favourite. I am not so certain of the popularity of the words. VOL. II. K In the song of " Cauld Kale in Aberdeen," frequent allusion is made to the Reel of Bogie; but the Bogie of the old song seems a district : Sir Hugh rode o'er the moorland brown, Sang loud frae tree to treé: Make haste! make haste now! good Sir Hugh, And stir your steed mair rude; Gin ye kenn'd wha lay in your bower, Sir Hugh rode through the good greenwood, And down the moonlight river, While o'er his head the bonnie bird Sung louder far than ever: Make haste! make haste now! good Sir Hugh, And spur your courser free For there's a knight in thy lady's bower, Whom she loves mair than thee. Ye lie! ye lie! my bonnie bird, On my true-love ye lie! And gin ye sing that song again, I'll shoot my shaft at thee. Sharp is your shaft, the sweet bird But ere it leaves the string, O! I'll have flown to a higher tree, O! I was one of gorlines four, Nursed 'neath the hollin tree; There came a kite wi' a yellow foot, And ate them all but me: sang, He looked on me wi' his big bright een, And weighed me in his claw, When frae Sir Hugh's bow came a shaft, And merry I flew awa'. O! I have wandered much on land, And sailed far on the sea; And the birdie that can speak and sing Is a welcome bird to me. O! first I ate the red witch berry, Away he rode, and the sweet bird flew, The live long summer night; |