Ae Whitsun day in Huntly toon, it's there I did agree
Wi' Bogie side o' Cairnie, a six-months for tae fee
Tae drive his twa best horses, likewise his cairt and ploo
And tae dee a thing aboot the fairm that richt weel I can do
Noo Bogie had a dochter wha's name was Isabelle
The floo'er o' her nation, there's nane her could excel
She had rosy cheeks and ruby lips and hair a darkish hue
She was neat, complete and handsome and comely for tae view
One day she went a-ramblin' and chose me for her guide
Tae tak' a pleasant walk wi' her alang by Cairnieside
I've slipped my airm aboot her waist and tae the groond did slide
And it's there I've had ma first braw nicht wi' the Belle o' Bogieside
The blackbird sang sae sweetly, the mavis sang sae shrill
And a' the chorus o' their sang was, "There lies Bogie's Belle"
Amang the weeds o' Cairnie, upon the grass sae green
Then she and I rose up again for fear we would be seen
'Ere twenty weeks had passed and gone, this lassie lost her bloom
Her rosy cheeks grew pale and wan, and she began tae swoon
'Ere forty weeks had passed and gone, this maid brought forth a son
And I was quickly sent for tae see what could be done
Auld Bogie heard my story and cried, "I am undone
Since ye beguiled my dochter, my sorrows are begun"
Ah says, "Auld man, ye're fairly richt," and I hung my heid in shame
"I'll mairry Belle the morning, Ah'll gie the bairn ma name"
But though I said I'd wad the lass, na, na, that wouldnae dae
"Ye're nae a fittin' match for Belle, nor she a match for ye"
And he sent me packin' doon the road wi' nae penny o' ma fee
Sae a' ye lads o' Huntly toon, a lang fareweel tae ye
And noo she's mairried wi' a tinklerlad wha's name is Soutar John
He hawks his pans and ladles aroon' by Fogieloan
And maybe she's got a better match, auld Bogie canna tell
But it's me wha's ta'en the maidenheid o' Bogie's bonnie Belle