As I came down to Huntly town, a-searching for a fee I met with Bogie o' Cairnie and with him I did agree To work his two best horses, barrow, cart or plough Or any kind of good farmwork he knew well that I could do He had a lovely daughter, and her name was Isabel She was the lily of the valley and the primrose of the dell And when she'd go out walking she'd take me for her guide Down by the banks of Cairnie we watched those small fish glide And when three short months had gone And passed, this lassie lost her bloom And the red fell from her rosy cheeks, and her eyes began to swoon And when nine long months had gone and passed, she bore to me a son And swiftly I was sent for to see what could be done I said that I would marry her, but och, that would not dee Saying, "You're no match for Isabelle, and she's no match for thee" So I took my own son all in my arms, may he bring to me much joy And may he mean as much to me as the girl that I adore And now she's married to a tinker lad and he comes from Huntly town Mending pots and pans and paraffin Lamps and he scours the country 'round Maybe she's got have a better match, old Bogie can't tell Fare ye well, you lads o' Huntly side and Bogie's Bonnie Belle