PEG NICHOLSON was a good bay mare,
As ever trod on airn;
But now she's floating down the Nith,
And past the mouth o' Cairn.
Peg Nicholson was a good bay mare,
An' rode thro' thick and thin;
But now she's floating down the Nith,
And wanting even the skin.
Peg Nicholson was a good bay mare,
And ance she bore a priest;
But now she's floating down the Nith,
For Solway fish a feast.
Peg Nicholson was a good bay mare,
An' the priest he rode her sair;
And much oppress'd and bruis'd she was,
As priest-rid cattle are,—&c. &c.
More verses by Robert Burns
- Willie Brew'D A Peck O' Maut
- Impromptu On Dumourier's Desertion Of The French Republican Army
- Epistle To William Simson
- Epitaph On John Rankine
- Lines On The Author's Death