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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.