"Sweet Peggy round her car, sir, Has strings of ducks and geese, But the scores of hearts she slaughters By far outnumber these; While she among her poultry sits, Just like a turtle-dove, Well worth the cage, I do engage, Of the blooming god of Love! While she sits in the low-backed car, The lovers come near and far, And envy the chicken That Peggy is pickin’, As she sits in the low-backed car."