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