Robert Burns, 1787
|
Where, braving angry winter's storms, The lofty Ochils rise, Far in their shade my Peggy's charms First blest my wondering eyes. As one who by some savage stream A lonely gem surveys, Astonish'd doubly, marks its beam With art's most polish'd blaze. |
2. Blest be the wild, sequester'd glade, And blest the day and hour, Where Peggy's charms I first survey'd, When first I felt their pow'r! The tyrant Death, with prim control May seize my fleeting breath, But tearing Peggy from my soul Must be a stronger death. |
| Song Index
| Home Page |