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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79.


Kate o’ Gowrie

By William Reid (1764–1831)

WHEN Katie was scarce out nineteen,

O, but she had twa coal-black een;

A bonnier lass ye wadna seen,

In a’ the Carse o’ Gowrie.

Quite tired o’ livin’ a’ his lane,

Pate did to her his love explain,

And swore he ’d be, were she his ain,

The happiest lad in Gowrie.

Quo’ she, “I winna marry thee

For a’ the gear that ye can gi’e,

Nor will I gang a step ajee,

For a’ the gowd in Gowrie.

My father will gi’e me twa kye;

My mother’s gaun some yarn to dye;

I ’ll get a gown just like the sky,

Gif I ’ll no gang to Gowrie.”

“O my dear Katie, say na sae;

Ye little ken a heart that ’s wae;

Hae! there ’s my hand; hear me, I pray,

Sin’ thou ’ll no gang to Gowrie.

Since first I met thee at the sheil,

My saul to thee ’s been true and leal;

The darkest night I fear nae deil,

Warlock, or witch in Gowrie.

“I fear nae want o’ claes, nor nocht;

Sic silly things my mind ne’er taught.

I dream a’ nicht, and start about,

And wish for thee in Gowrie.

I lo’e thee better, Kate, my dear,

Than a’ my riggs and out-gaun gear;

Sit down by me till ance I swear,

Thou ’rt worth the Carse o’ Gowrie.”

Syne on her mouth sweet kisses laid,

Till blushes a’ her cheeks o’erspread;

She sighed, and in soft whispers said,

“O Pate, tak’ me to Gowrie!”

Quo’ he, “Let ’s to the auld fouk gang;

Say what they like, I ’ll bide their bang,

And bide a’ nicht, though beds be thrang,

But I ’ll ha’e thee to Gowrie.”

The auld fouk syne baith gied consent:

The priest was ca’d: a’ were content;

And Katie never did repent

That she gaed hame to Gowrie.

For routh o’ bonnie bairns had she;

Mair strappin’ lads ye wadna see;

And her braw lasses bore the gree

Frae a’ the rest o’ Gowrie.