Mudcat Café message #4006746 The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #166560   Message #4006746
Posted By: Jim Carroll
01-Sep-19 - 03:58 AM
Thread Name: Favourite Love Song
Subject: RE: Favourite Love Song
One of the finest ballads on the subject of love I have ever heard
The highlighted verse is, in my opinion, among the most beautiful declarations of love in the tradition and the final 'consummation' verse, exquisite
It's a fairly rare ballad - said to have been collected by Burns

3    Young Peggy
It isn't often that one finds a traditional ballad as lyrical and tender in feeling as this one. Here there is no blood, no cruelty, just two people in love and determined to consummate their love as quickly as possible.

Whaur hae ye been, Peggy,
Whaur hae ye been?
In the gairden ’mang the gillyflowers,
'Tween the hours of twelve and ane.

Ye werena yoursel', Peggy,
No' there your lane         
Your faither saw ye in Jamie’s airms
’Tween the hours o' twelve and ane.

What though we were seen,. mither,
Though we were seen?
I would sleep in Jamie’s airms
Though his grave was growin’ green.

Your Jamie’s a rogue, Peggy,
Jamie’s a loon,         
For the trystin' o’ oor ae   dochter
And her saw very young.

Jamie's no’ to blame, mither,
The blame lies on me,
For I would sleep in Jamie's airms
Though a’ the world should dee.

She’s gane tae her ain chaulmer,
Jamie was there,
I'm blithe to see ye, Jamie dear,
Though we maun meet nae mair.

We’ll tak' a pairtin' glass, Jamie,
Pour oot the wine -
And since we maun meet nae mair, my love,
We'll drink your health and mine.

Tak' me in your airms, laddie,
Here's kisses five,
And since we maun meet nae mair, my love
We’ll drink weel may we thrive.

Come to my airms, Peggy,
Close to my hairt,
And as lang's the sun hings in the lift         
I swear we’ll never pairt.

Your faither keeps a crawin’ cock,
Divides nicht frae day,
And in the middlewatch o’ the nicht
In greenwood ye’ll meet me.

When mass was sung and bells were rung
And a’ bound for bed,
She’s kilted up her gay clothing,
Met Jamie in the wood.

'Twas early in the morning,
The clock chappit twa,         
Her faither rose up in his bed,
Cryin’, "Peggy, she’s awa' '."

They've mounted their horses
And fast they did rin,
But lang ere they come to the top o' the hill
The lad and lass were yin.