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| THERE’S cauld kail in Aberdeen, | |
| There’s castocks in Stra’bogie, | |
| And, morn and e’en, they’re blythe and bein, | |
| That haud them frae the cogie. | |
| Now haud ye frae the cogie, lads, | 5 |
| O bide ye frae the cogie, | |
| I’ll tell ye true, ye’ll never rue | |
| O passin’ by the cogie. | |
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| Young Will was braw and weel put on, | |
| Sae blythe was he and vogie, | 10 |
| And he got bonnie Mary Don, | |
| The flower o’ a’ Stra’bogie. | |
| Wha wad hae thought, at wooin’ time, | |
| He’d e’er forsaken Mary! | |
| And ta’en him to the tipplin’ trade, | 15 |
| Wi’ boozin’ Rob and Harry. | |
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| Sair Mary wrought, sair Mary grat, | |
| She scarce could lift the ladle, | |
| Wi’ pithless feet, ’tween ilka greet, | |
| She’d rock the borrow’d cradle. | 20 |
| Her weddin’ plenishin’ was gane, | |
| She never thought to borrow; | |
| Her bonnie face was waxin’ wan, | |
| And Will wrought a’ the sorrow. | |
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| He’s reelin’ hame ae winter’s night, | 25 |
| Some later than the gloamin’; | |
| He’s ta’en the rig, he’s miss’d the brig, | |
| And Bogie’s owre him foamin’. | |
| Wi’ broken banes, out owre the stanes | |
| He creepit up Stra’bogie, | 30 |
| And a’ the nicht he prayed wi’ micht, | |
| To keep him frae the cogie. | |
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| Now Mary’s heart is light again, | |
| She’s neither sick nor silly; | |
| For, auld or young, nae sinfu’ tongue | 35 |
| Could e’er entice her Willie. | |
| And aye the sang thro’ Bogie rang, | |
| O haud ye frae the cogie; | |
| The weary gill’s the sairest ill | |
| On braes o’ fair Stra’bogie. | 40 |
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