ass baith clean and tight,
To dance the reel o' Bogie.

In cotillions the French excel,
John Bull loves country dances;
The Spaniards dance fandangoes well;
Mynheer an all'mande prances;
In foursome reels the Scots delight,
At threesomes they dance wondrous light,
But twasomes ding a' out o' sight,
Danced to the reel o' Bogie.

Come, lads, and view your partners weel,
Wale each a blythesome rogie;
I'll tak this lassie to mysel',
She looks sae keen and vogie.
Now, piper lads, bang up the spring,
The country fashion is the thing,
To pree their mou's ere we begin
To dance the reel o' Bogie.

Now ilka lad has got a lass,
Save yon auld doited fogie,
And ta'en a fling upon the grass,
As they do in Strabogie.
But a' the lasses look sae fain,
We canna think oursel's to hain,
For they maun hae their come again,
To dance the reel o' Bogie.

Now a' the lads hae done their best,
Like true men o' Strabogie,
We 'll stop a while and tak' a rest,
And tipple out a cogie.
Come now, my lads, and tak your glass,
And try ilk ither to surpass,
In wishing health to every lass,
To dance the reel o' Bogie.

MRS GRANT OF CARRON.

Mrs Grant of Carron, the reputed author of one song, which has long
maintained a favoured place, was a native of Aberlour, on the banks of
the Spey, in the county of Banff. She was born about the year 1745, and
was twice married--first, to her cousin, Mr Grant of Carron, near
Elchies, on the river Spey, about the year 1763; and, secondly, to Dr
Murray, a physician in Bath. She died at Bath about the year 1814.

In his correspondence with George Thomson, Burns, alluding to the song
of Mrs Grant, "Roy's Wife," remarks that he had in his possession "the
original words of a song for the air in the handwriting of the lady who
composed it," which, he adds, "are superior to any edition of the song
which the public has seen." He subsequently composed an additional
version himself, beginning, "Canst thou leave me thus, my Katie?" but
this, like others of the bard's conversions of Scottish songs into an
English dress, did not become popular. The verses by his female friend,
in which the lady is made to be the sufferer by misplaced affection, and
commencing, "Stay, my Willie, yet believe me," though published, remain
likewise in obscurity. "Roy's