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Hannah F. Gould: Peggy

HEN first I saw sweet Peggy, 'Twas on a market day :

A low-backed car she drove, and sat Upon a truss of hay; But when that hay was blooming grass, And decked with flowers of spring, No flower was there that could compare With the blooming girl I sing.

As she sat in the low-backed car, The man at the turnpike bar Never asked for the toll, But just rubbed his owld poll And looked after the low-backed car.

In battle's wild commotion, The proud and mighty Mars With hostile scythes demands his tithes Of death in warlike cars; I While Peggy, peaceful goddess, Has darts in her bright 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-backed car, The lovers come near and far, And envy the chicken That Peggy is pickin', As she sits in her 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 forninst 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, To be married by Father Mahar; O, my heart would beat high At her glance and her sigh- Though it beat in a low-backed car!