The speaker remembers a young country woman named Peggy, loved one spring long ago. He recalls meeting her in the morning while farmers sowed rye, her face full of plain, honest sense, and how shy he felt. Her boots were half laced; she walked lightly where bees passed. He describes her lips like cherries, eyes hazel, tall as a poplar, as smooth as a freestone wall. He keeps a scrap of her chocolate gown with white cherry print, a memento of his affection. The poem’s simple, song-like repetitions—“farmers sow the rye,” “common sense”—give it the feel of a folk memory. The morning setting, the sowing of rye, and her common-sense face all root the memory in a particular season, making the absence feel as constant as the rural year. Ten years have passed since Peggy went away, and the speaker is still hopelessly stuck in that old tenderness, not knowing what to do. The mood is one of rural simplicity and quiet heartache, where a lost love stays as vivid as the changing seasons and the natural world mirrors his longing.
Peggy — Summary
Peggy said good morning and I said good bye, When farmers dib the corn and laddies sow the rye. Young Peggy's face was common sense and I was rather shy When I met her in the morning when the farmers sow the rye.
Her half laced boots fit tightly as she tripped along the grass, And she set her foot so lightly where the early bee doth pass. Oh Peggy was a young thing, her face was common sense, I courted her about the spring and loved her ever thence.
Oh Peggy was the young thing and bonny as to size; Her lips were cherries of the spring and hazel were her eyes. Oh Peggy she was straight and tall as is the poplar tree, Smooth as the freestone of the wall, and very dear to me.
Oh Peggy's gown was chocolate and full of cherries white; I keep a bit on't for her sake and love her day and night. I drest myself just like a prince and Peggy went to woo, But she's been gone some ten years since, and I know not what to do.