Glenlogie Poem by Anonymous British

Three score o' nobles rade up the King's ha'
But bonnie Glenogie's the flow'r o' them a'
Wi' his milk-white steed and his bonnie black e'e,
'Glenogie, dear mither, Glenogie for me!'

'O haud your tongue, dochter, there's better than he'
'O say nae sae, mither, for that canna be;
Tho' Doumlie is greater and richer than he,
Yet if I maun tak him, I'll certainly dee.'

'Where will I get a bonnie boy, to win hose and shoon,
Will gae to Glenlogie, and come again soon?'
'O here am I a bonnie boy, to win hose and shoon,
Will gae to Glenlogie and come again soon.'

When he gaed to Glenlogie, 'twas 'wash and go dine;'
'Twas 'wash ye, my pretty boy, wash and go dine,'
'O 'twas ne'er my father's fashion, and it ne'er shall be mine
To gar a lady's hasty errand wait till I dine.'

'But there is, Glenogie, a letter for thee;'
The first line he look'd at, a licht lauch lauched he,
The next line that he read, the tear blindit his e'e;
But the last line that he read, he gart the table flee.

'Gar saddle the black horse, gar saddle the brown;
Gar saddle the swiftest steed e'er rade frae a town;'
But lang ere the horse was drawn and brought to the green,
O bonnie Glenlogie was twa mile his lane.

When he came to Glenfeldy's but sma' mirth was there,
An bonnie Jean's mither was tearin' her hair,
'Ye're welcome, Glenogie, ye're welcome, quo' she,
'Ye're welcome, Glenogie, your Jeanie to see.'

Pale and wan was she when Glenogie gaed ben,
But rosy red grew she when e'er he sat doun;
She turned awa' wi' a smile in her e'e.
'O dinna fear, mither, I'll maybe no dee!'