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Poem by Allan Ramsay


The Waukin' o' the Fauld


My Peggie is a young thing,
⁠     Just enter'd in her teens,
Fair as the day, and sweet as May,
Fair as the day, and always gay:
         ⁠My Peggy is a young thing,
⁠              And I'm nae very auld,
⁠         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 o' 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 gi'es 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 confest,
By a' the rest that she sings best
         ⁠My Peggy sings sae saftly.
              ⁠And in her sangs are tauld,
⁠         Wi' innocence the wale o' sense,
              ⁠At wauking o' the fauld.



Allan Ramsay


Allan Ramsay's other poems:
  1. Bonnie Chirsty
  2. Lochaber
  3. Katy's Answer
  4. The Young Laird and Edinburgh Katy
  5. My Peggy Is a Young Thing

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