At market day in Huntley toon   An' it was there, I did agree   Wi' Bogieside, the farmer   A twelve month for to fee      Tae drive his twa best horses   That's a task that I could do   Tae drive his twa best horses   In the harrow and the ploo      Now Bogie had a dochter   Her name was Isabelle   She was the lily o' the valley   An' the primrose o' the dell      An' when she went out walkin'   She chose me for her guide   Doon by the burn at Cairnie   Tae watch the fishes glide      And when three months was scarcely o'er   The lassie lost her bloom   An' the red fell frae her bonnie cheeks   An' her eyes began to swoon      Noo, the neist nine months were past and gone   She brought tae me a son   And I was quickly sent for tae   See what could be done      I said that I would marry her   But oh, that widna dae   For, "You're nae match for Bonnie Belle   An' she's nae match for thee"      He sent me packin' doon the road   Wi' nae penny o' my fee   Sae a' ye lads o' Huntley toon   A lang fareweel tae ye      But noo she's marrit tae a tinker lad   Wha bides in Huntley toon   He mends pots and pans and paraffin lamps   Aan' scours the country roon      Maybe she's gotten a better match   Auld Bogie canna tell   But it was me wha's ta'en the maidenheid   O' Bogie's bonnie Belle