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As I cam in by our gate-end, As day was waxen weary, O wha cam tripping down the street But bonnie Peg, my dearie! Her air sae sweet, and shape complete, Wi' nae proportion wanting, The queen of love did never move Wi' motion mair enchanting. Wi' linked hands we took the sands Adown yon winding river; And, oh! that hour, and broomy bower, Can I forget it ever!
This is an epitaph by Robert Burns. It is read here by Bill Paterson.
Lisa HarrisonFirst published 1808,this section of song appeared posthumously in Edinburgh Magazine amidst a longer version which appeared not to be entirely of Burns - the further stanzas exist in quatrain patterns uncharacteristic of the Bard.
Bonnie Peg as it is here is accepted as from Burns' own holograph, but calls into attention the debate regarding authorship after his death, of 'lost poems', fragments, and poems of dubious provenance, though much in Burns' style.
The Latin inscription cætera desunt closing this poem translates as 'the remainder is missing'.
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