Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
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, | 5 |
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, | 10 |
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 | 15 |
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; | 20 |
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 | 25 |
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 | 30 |
With innocence the wale of sense, | |
At wawking of the fauld. | |