The poem
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.