Allan Ramsay (1686–1758)

MY Peggy is a young thing

Just entered 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 na very auld;

Yet weel I like to meet her at

The wauking o’ the fauld.

My Peggy speaks sae sweetly

Whene’er we meet alane,

I wish nae mair to lay my care—

I wish nae mair o’ a’ that’s rare.

My Peggy speaks sae sweetly,

To a’ the lave I’m cauld;

But she gars o’ my spirits glow

At waukin o’ the fauld.

My Peggy smiles sae kindly

Whene’er I whisper love,

That I look doun on a’ the toun—

That I look doun upon a croun.

My Peggy smiles sae kindly

It mak’s me blythe and bauld;

And naething gie’s me sic delight

As wauking o’ the fauld.

My Peggy sings sae saftly

When on my pipe I play,

By a’ the rest it is confessed—

By a’ the rest—that she sings best.

My Peggy sings sae saftly,

And in her sangs are tald

Wi’ innocence the wale o’ sense,

At wauking o’ the fauld.