If ye gae up to yon hill-tap, Ye'll there see bonnie Peggy; She kens her father is a laird, And she forsooth's a leddy. There Sophy tight, a lassie bright, Besides a handsome fortune: Wha canna win her in a night, Has little art in courtin'. Gae down by Faile, and taste the ale, And tak a look o' Mysie; She's dour and din, a deil within, But aiblins she may please ye. If she be shy, her sister try, Ye'll maybe fancy Jenny; If ye'll dispense wi' want o' sense -- She kens hersel she's bonnie. As ye gae up by yon hillside, Speir in for bonnie Bessy; She'll gie ye a beck, and bid ye light, And handsomely address ye. There's few sae bonnie, nane sae guid, In a' King George' dominion; If ye should doubt the truth o' this -- It's Bessy's ain opinion! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ALEXANDER THROCKMORTON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO CERTAIN JOURNEYMEN by CARL SANDBURG TO BE CLOSELY WRITTEN ON A SMALL PIECE OF PAPER by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS RECOMPENSE by JESSE M. BALL ALLEN HOMAGE TO QUINTUS SEPTIMIUS FLORENTIS CHRISTIANUS (1) by ANYTE |