♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪Oh Peggy Piorikast, how pure you were,My first and purest love, Miss Piorikast.Settle on back, I hurried up West HillTo catch you on your morning walk to school,Your nanny with you and your golden hair streaming like sunlight.Strict deportment made you hold yourself erect,And every step bounced up and down as though you walked on springs.Your ice-blue eyes, your lashes long and light,Your sweetly freckled face and turned-up nose,So haunted me that all my loves since thenHave had a look of Peggy Piorikast.♪♪♪♪♪♪♪Along the grove, what happy, happy stepsUnder the limes I took to barren houseWeaving, carpentry and art, walking with youAnd with what joy returned, Wendy you were to meIn Peter Pan, the little match girl in Hans AndersonBut I would rescue you before you died.♪♪♪And once you asked me to your house to tea,It seemed a palace after thirty-one,The lofty entrance hall, the flights of stairs,The huge expanse of sunny drawing-roomLooking for miles across the chimney-botsTo spouts of pegasus and the dome of ballsAnd there your mother from her sofa smiled.♪♪After that tea I called and called againBut Peggy was not in, she was away, she wasn't wellHouse of the Sleeping Winds, my favourite bookWith whirling Art Nouveau and Walter Cranish colour platesI brought to cheer her sick bed, it was taken inWeeks passed and passed and then it was returnedOh, gone forever, Peggy, peering last.♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪