A plowman so stout and a damsel so rare,
Conversed as they sat on the hay;
They ogled each other with simpering stare;
Pretty Peggy the Gay, was the name of the fair,
And the plowman’s the Bold Roger Gray.
“And O!” said the nymph, “since to-morrow you go
Far hence with a sergeant to list,
Your tears for your Peggy soon ceasing to flow,
Your love for some wealthier maiden you’ll show,
And she’ll by my Roger be kiss’d.”