Александр Андерсон (Alexander Anderson)

The Bowgie Man

Did ye see the Bowgie man
  Stan'in' at the door?
Ae big pock flung owre his back,
  Anither doon afore.
Did ye hear him cryin' oot,
  As he geid a knock—
"Mithers fash'd wi' steerin' weans,
  Pit them in my pock?"

Gudeness, what has brocht him here,
  Giein' fowk a fricht,
Speerin' after weans, an' look—
  Eicht o'clock at nicht.
Hae I ony in the house?
  Here's ane on my knee,
Winna let his claes come aff,
  Or steek an e'e for me.

Bowgie, stan'in' at the door,
  Where is't that ye keep
Souple rogues that row aboot,
  An' never think on sleep?
Hear him turn the han'le roun',
  Then anither knock,
"In anaith the big mill wheel,
  Tied up in my pock."

Bowgie, if a bairn we ken
  Says he'll cuddle doon,
Wull ye leave oor door, an' gang
  Farrer up the toon?
Hear him cryin' oot again,
  As he snowks aboot—
"If he's happit owre the heid
  I daurna pu' him oot."

Bowgie, tak' some ither door,
  Here ye'll come nae speed;
Mammy's bairn has cuddled doon,
  Happit owre the heid.
If ye come anither nicht,
  What a fricht ye'll get!
Gar his faither cut your pocks,
  An' chase ye through the yett.

Mony a bowgie man atweel
  We hae cause to fear,
Comes an' knocks, and axes things
  We dinna want to hear.
Like the bairns, when ilka knock
  Brings some ill-dune deed,
We gang about an' never min',
  If happit owre the heid.

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