As walking forth to view the plain,
Upon a morning early,
While May's sweet scent did cheer my brain,
From flowers which grow so rarely;
I chanced to meet a pretty maid,
She shined, though it was fogie;
I asked her name: Sweet Sir, she said,
My name is Katharine Ogie.
I stood a while, and did admire,
To see a nymph so stately;
So brisk an air there did appear,
In a country maid so neatly.
Such natural sweetness she displayed,
Like a lilie in a bogie,
Diana's self was ne'er arrayed
Like this same Katharine Ogie.
But I fear the gods have not decreed
For me so fine a creature;
Whose beauty rare makes her exceed
All other works in nature.
Clouds of despair surround my love,
That are both dark and fogie;
Pity my case, ye powers above,
Else I die for Katharine Ogie!
Bogie = bog, marsh
Submitted by Ferdinando Albeggiani
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Text added to the website: 2012-07-03 00:00:00.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:04:58
Line count: 24
Word count: 147
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