Allan Ramsay.

1686-1758

448   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 lave² 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 wawking¹ 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 wale³ of sense,
     At wawking of the fauld.