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‹‹‹ prev (21) [Page 13][Page 13]Wawking of the faulds

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My Peggy fpeaks fae fweetly.
Whene'er we meet alane,
I wifb nae mair to lay my care,
I wifii nae mair of a' that's rare.
My Peggy fi>eaks fae fweetly.
To a' the lave Fm cauld :
■ But flie gars a' my fpirits glow
At wawking of the fauld.
My Peggy fmiles fae kindly.
Whene'er I whifper love.
That I look down on a' the town.
That I look down upon a crown.
^5y Peggy fmiles fae kindly.
It makes me blyth and bauld.
And naething gies me iic delight
As wawking (.,P the fauld.
My Peggy fmgs fae faftly.
When on my pipe I play;
By a' the relt it is confcft,
Ly a' the reft that llie fmgs beft.
INiy Peggy fings fae faftly.
And in her fangs are tald,
Wi' innocence the \vale of fenfe.
At wawking of tlie fauld.
THIS funny morning, Roger, cT-eers my blood,
And puts a' nature in a jovial mood.
How harti'ome is't to fee the riling ]ilants,
To hear the birds chirm o'er their pleafing rants;
How halefonie is't to fnuft" the cauler air.
And h' the fweets ic bears, when.voidof care !
Whs* ails thee. Roger, then ? wiiat gars thee grane :
Tell me the caufe of tby ill-feafon'd pain.

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