My Peggy's Face

(Robert Burns)



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 heavenly fair,

Her native grace so void of art:

But I adore my Peggy's heart.



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 generous purpose, nobly dear,

The gentle look that rage disarms-

These are all immortal charms.



@Scots @love

tune: My Peggy's face (181)

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