Page:Blue bonnets o'er the border (1).pdf/4

  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 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 wauking o' 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 blythe and bauld,

And naething gies 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 contest, By a' the rest, that she sings best. My Peggy sings sae saftly,
 * And in her sangs are tauld,

With innocence, the wale o' sense,
 * At walking o' the fauld.

For England, when, with fav'ring gale,
 * Our gallant ship up channel steer'd—