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28 TONE-POETRY OF ROBERT BURNS |
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No. 29. My Peggy s face, my Peggy's form.
Tune: My Peggy's face Scots Musical Museum, 1803, No. 501. |
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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. |
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