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Home  »  English Poetry I  »  274. Peggy

English Poetry I: From Chaucer to Gray.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.

Allan Ramsay

274. Peggy

MY Peggy is a young thing,

Just enter’d in her teens,

Fair as the day, and sweet as May,

Fair as the day, and always gay;

My Peggy is a young thing,

And I’m not very auld,

Yet well I like to meet her at

The wawking of the fauld.

My Peggy speaks sae sweetly

Whene’er we meet alane,

I wish nae mair to lay my care,

I wish nae mair of a’ that’s rare;

My Peggy speaks sae sweetly,

To a’ the lave I’m cauld,

But she gars a’ my spirits glow

At wawking of the fauld.

My Peggy smiles sae kindly

Whene’er I whisper love,

That I look down on a’ the town,

That I look down upon a crown;

My Peggy smiles sae kindly,

It makes me blyth and bauld,

And naething gives me sic delight

As wawking of the fauld.

My Peggy sings sae saftly

When on my pipe I play,

By a’ the rest it is confest,

By a’ the rest, that she sings best;

My Peggy sings sae saftly,

And in her sangs are tauld

With innocence the wale of sense,

At wawking of the fauld.