Peggy O'moore - song lyrics 
American Old-time song lyrics from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
PEGGY O'MOORE. Copyright, 1885, by T. B. Harms & Co. Written and sung by Wm. J. Scanlan. 
There's a cottage in the glen, You can see while passing by; In that cottage dwells a maid, Bo modest And so shy; Her cheeks are filled with roses Her eyes with glances true; And every time I meet her, My eyes are filled with dew Tis not the dew of sorrow, Nor the cold dew of regret; Bit tears of joy, which say to me, We will be happy yet! Though I've not asked the question. Of one gem I feel sure; Who's more to me than all the world. My own sweet Peggy O'Moore. 
Chorus. Peggy O'Moore, Peggy O'Moore, My own little darling, the one I adore; There's none half so charming, more chaste or more pure, Than my own little darling, sweet Peggy O'Moore. 
When first I met my love, She was strolling through the flowers; No lives more content, I've learned since then, than ours; My heart it throbbed with pleasure, When first our eyes they met; How beautiful, how chaste she looked, I never can forget. The roses paled beside the tint, That lay upon her cheek; The air was filled with rosy balm, I feared I could not speak; I felt that I was dreaming, A dream of untold bliss; So ruby like her pretty lips, To live was but to kiss.-Chorus.