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 gi'es 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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE METROPOLITAN TOWER by SARA TEASDALE RORY O'MORE; OR, ALL FOR GOOD LUCK by SAMUEL LOVER TO THE UNKNOWN EROS: BOOK 1: 16. A FAREWELL by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 38. THE MORROW'S MESSAGE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI TO THE SOLITUDE OF FONTENAY by GUILLAUME AMFRYE |