Christy Moore - Bogey's Bonnie Belle lyrics
[Christy Moore - Bogey's Bonnie Belle lyrics]
As I went by Huntleigh town
One evening for to see
I met with Bogey O' Cairnee
And with him I did agree
To care for his two best horses
Or cart or harrow or plough
Or anything about farm work
That I very well should know
Old Bogey had a daughter her name was Isobel
She's the lily of the valley
And the primrose of the dell
And when she went out walking
She took me for her guide
Down by the Burn O'Cairnee
To watch the small fish glide
And when three months was past and gone
This girl she lost her bloom
The red fell from her rosy cheeks
And her eyes began to swoon
And when nine months were past and gone
She bore to me a son
And I was straight sent for
To see what could be done
I said that I would marry her
But that it would nae do
You're no a match for the bonny wee girl
And she's no match for you
Now she's married to a tinker lad
That comes from Huntleigh town
He sells pots and pans and paraffin lamps
And scours the country round
Maybe she's had a better match
Old Bogey can nae tell
So fair well ye lads o Huntleigh town
And to Bogey's bonnie belle
One evening for to see
I met with Bogey O' Cairnee
And with him I did agree
To care for his two best horses
Or cart or harrow or plough
Or anything about farm work
That I very well should know
Old Bogey had a daughter her name was Isobel
She's the lily of the valley
And the primrose of the dell
And when she went out walking
She took me for her guide
Down by the Burn O'Cairnee
To watch the small fish glide
And when three months was past and gone
This girl she lost her bloom
The red fell from her rosy cheeks
And her eyes began to swoon
And when nine months were past and gone
She bore to me a son
And I was straight sent for
To see what could be done
I said that I would marry her
But that it would nae do
You're no a match for the bonny wee girl
And she's no match for you
Now she's married to a tinker lad
That comes from Huntleigh town
He sells pots and pans and paraffin lamps
And scours the country round
Maybe she's had a better match
Old Bogey can nae tell
So fair well ye lads o Huntleigh town
And to Bogey's bonnie belle