Robert Burns, 1785
Young Peggy blooms our boniest lass,|
Her blush is like the morning,
The rosy dawn, the springing grass,
With early gems adorning.
Her eyes outshine the radiant beams
That gild the passing shower,
And glitter o'er the crystal streams,
And cheer each fresh'ning flower.
2. Her lips, more than the cherries bright,
3. Were Fortune lovely Peggy's foe,|
Such sweetness would relent her;
As blooming spring unbends the brow
Of surly, savage Winter.
Detraction's eye no aim can gain,
Her winning pow'rs to lessen;
And fretful Envy grins in vain
The poison'd tooth to fasten.
4. Ye Pow'rs of Honour, Love, and Truth,
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