Peggy O


As we marched down to Fyvie,

As we marched down to Fyvie,
Our captain fell in love with a lady like a dove, And he called her by name, pretty Peggy O.

Oh will you marry me, pretty Peggy O?
Oh will you marry me, pretty Peggy O?
In a carriage you shall ride, as a lady oh so fine, As my true love at my side, pretty Peggy O.

Oh it’s you I adore, sweet William O,
Oh it’s you I adore, sweet William O,
for I would marry you, but your guineas are too few, And I fear my mother would be angry O.

What would your mother say, pretty Peggy O?
What would your mother say, pretty Peggy O?
What would your mother think, if she heard my guineas clink, And saw me marching at the head of my soldiers O?

Climb on down the stairs, pretty Peggy O
Oh climb on down the stairs, pretty Peggy O.
Climb on down the stairs, combing back your golden hair, and bid farewell to your William O.

Sweet William’s gone to war, pretty Peggy O. Sweet William’s gone to war, pretty Peggy O.
He fought oh so brave, you’d be so proud of him, sweet William’s gone to war, pretty Peggy O.

As we marched down to Fyvie,
As we marched down to Fyvie,
Our captain fell in love with a lady like a dove, And he called her by name, pretty Peggy O.
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Note: This is based on an old folk song from Scotland.