Robert Burns Poems

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ALTHO’ my bed were in yon muir,
Amang the heather, in my plaidie;
Yet happy, happy would I be,
Had I my dear Montgomerie’s Peggy.


When o’er the hill beat surly storms,
And winter nights were dark and rainy;
I’d seek some dell, and in my arms
I’d shelter dear Montgomerie’s Peggy.


Were I a baron proud and high,
And horse and servants waiting ready;
Then a’ ’twad gie o’ joy to me,—
The sharin’t with Montgomerie’s Peggy.

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