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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS |
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While Peggy, peaceful goddess,
Has darts in her right eye, That knock men down in the market town,
As right and left they fly,— While she sits in her low-backed car, Than battle more dangerous far, For the doctor's art Cannot cure the heart That is hit from that low-backed car.
Sweet Peggy round her car, sir,
Has strings of ducks and geese, But the scores of hearts she slaughters
By far outnumber these, While she among her poultry sits,
Just like a turtle dove, Well worth the cage, I do engage,
Of the blooming god of love ! While she sits in her low-back car The lovers come near and far, And envy the chicken That Peggy is pickin', As she sits in the low-backed car.
O I'd rather own that car, sir,
With Peggy by my side, Than a coach and four, and gold galore,
And a lady for my bride. For the lady would sit fornenst me
On a cushion made with taste, While Peggy would sit beside me
With my arm around her waist,— While we drove in the low-backed car |
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