Oh Comely Is the Rosy Brere

O' comely is the rosey brere That blooms among the thorns
And bonny are the dew drops bright earlily at morn
And bonny is the primrose bush tender the white thorn green
And bonny is the woodbine tree i' the dewy hour o e'en
That blossoms i' the moonlight close by the thrushes nest
And I will pluck a choice one for Peggys bonny breast
Peggy Stapleton is sweeter than woodbines e'er can be
And sweeter at the evening hour is Peggys walk wi me.

When oer the level meadow the sinking sun has set
And round the Village cross the ploughmen they are met
When the sparrows gone to bed and the Crow is on her nest
And the Baby it is sleeping upon the Mothers breast
When the hens are gone to roost And the Cows are at their lair
Neath the homesteads spreading ash trees and pleasant places there
I wander out alone when the stars look in the tree
And bonny Peggy Stapleton goes walking wi' me.

I meet my Peggy there while the Lark flew from the grass
Wi' my arm about her Aprons strings I kissed the bonny lass
I kissed her on the chin and I kissed her on the cheek
And we walked about the meadow till the moon was fit to speak
Young Peggys neck was white as the water running clear
But her cheek it burnt the colour o' the rose upon the brere
And beautiful at dewy Eve the spreading dark oak tree
While the moon is looking through and Peggy courting me.
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.