My Peggy's Face.

Tune - "My Peggy's Face."



I.

    My Peggy's face, my Peggy's form,
    The frost of hermit age might warm;
    My Peggy's worth, my Peggy's mind,
    Might charm the first of human kind.
    I love my Peggy's angel air,
    Her face so truly, heav'nly fair,
    Her native grace so void of art,
    But I adore my Peggy's heart.

II.

    The lily's hue, the rose's dye,
    The kindling lustre of an eye;
    Who but owns their magic sway?
    Who but knows they all decay!
    The tender thrill, the pitying tear,
    The gen'rous purpose, nobly dear,
    The gentle look, that rage disarms
    These are all immortal charms.

Robert Burns

Robert Burns, also known as Rabbie Burns, the Bard of Ayrshire, and various other names and epithets, was a Scottish poet and lyricist. He is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland and is celebrated worldwide. Born on January 25, 1759, in Alloway, he is best known for works such as 'Auld Lang Syne,' 'Scots Wha Hae,' and 'A Red, Red Rose.' He passed away on July 21, 1796, in Dumfries.

Robert Burns

The Creed Of Poverty.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

When Januar' Wind.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Verses To John Rankine.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Whare Hae Ye Been.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Young Peggy.

Tune - "Last time I cam o'er the muir."


I.

    Young Peggy blooms our bonniest lass,
        Her blush is like the morning,
    The rosy dawn, the springing grass,
        With early gems adorning:
    Her eyes outshone the radiant beams
        That gild the passing shower,
    And glitter o'er the crystal streams,
        And cheer each fresh'ning flower.

II.

    Her lips, more than the cherries bright,
        A richer dye has graced them;
    They charm th' admiring gazer's sight,
        And sweetly tempt to taste them:
    Her smile is, as the evening mild,
        When feather'd tribes are courting,
    And little lambkins wanton wild,
        In playful bands disporting.

III.

    Were...

Robert Burns

Peggy.

I.

Now westlin winds and slaughtering guns
    Bring autumn's pleasant weather;
The moor-cock springs, on whirring wings,
    Amang the blooming heather:
Now waving grain, wide o'er the plain,
    Delights the weary farmer;
And the moon shines bright, when I rove at night
    To muse upon my charmer.

II.

The partridge loves the fruitful fells;
    The plover loves the mountains;
The woodcock haunts the lonely dells;
    The soaring hern the fountains;
Thro' lofty groves the cushat roves
    The path of man to shun it;
The hazel bush o'erhangs the thrush,
    The spreading thorn the linnet.

III.

Thus ev'ry kind their pleasure find,
    The savage and the tender;
Some social join, and leagues combine;
 ...

Robert Burns

Braving Angry Winter's Storms.

Tune - "Neil Gow's Lamentations for Abercairny."


I.

    Where, braving angry winter's storms,
        The lofty Ochels rise,
    Far in their shade my Peggy's charms
        First blest my wondering eyes;
    As one who by some savage stream,
        A lonely gem surveys,
    Astonish'd, doubly marks its beam,
        With art's most polish'd blaze.

II.

    Blest be the wild, sequester'd shade,
        And blest the day and hour,
    Where Peggy's charms I first survey'd,
        When first I felt their power!
    The tyrant Death, with grim control,
        May seize my fleeting breath;
    But tearing Peggy from my soul
        Must be a stronger death.

Robert Burns

Peggy

Peggy said good morning and I said good bye,
When farmers dib the corn and laddies sow the rye.
Young Peggy's face was common sense and I was rather shy
When I met her in the morning when the farmers sow the rye.

Her half laced boots fit tightly as she tripped along the grass,
And she set her foot so lightly where the early bee doth pass.
Oh Peggy was a young thing, her face was common sense,
I courted her about the spring and loved her ever thence.

Oh Peggy was the young thing and bonny as to size;
Her lips were cherries of the spring and hazel were her eyes.
Oh Peggy she was straight and tall as is the poplar tree,
Smooth as the freestone of the wall, and very dear to me.

Oh Peggy's gown was chocolate and full of cherries white;
I keep a bit on't for her ...

John Clare

Montgomery's Peggy.

Tune - "Galla-Water."


I.

    Altho' my bed were in yon muir,
        Amang the heather, in my plaidie,
    Yet happy, happy would I be,
        Had I my dear Montgomery's Peggy.

II.

    When o'er the hill beat surly storms,
        And winter nights were dark and rainy;
    I'd seek some dell, and in my arms
        I'd shelter dear Montgomery's Peggy.

III.

    Were I a baron proud and high,
        And horse and servants waiting ready,
    Then a' 'twad gie o' joy to me,
        The sharin't with Montgomery's Peggy.

Robert Burns

Bonnie Peg.

I.

    As I came in by our gate end,
        As day was waxin' weary,
    O wha came tripping down the street,
        But Bonnie Peg my dearie!

II.

    Her air sae sweet, and shape complete,
        Wi' nae proportion wanting;
    The Queen of Love did never move
        Wi' motion mair enchanting.

III.

    Wi' linked hands, we took the sands
        A-down yon winding river;
    And, oh! that hour and broomy bower,
        Can I forget it ever?

Robert Burns