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.
THE HEAVING OF THE LEAD.
For England, when, with fav'ring gale,
Our gallant ship up channel steer'd—
