Robert Burns, 1783
Now westlin winds and slaught'ring guns|
Bring Autumn's pleasant weather;
The moorcock springs on whirring wings
Among the blooming heather;
Now waving grain, wild o'er the plain,
Delights the weary farmer;
And the moon shines bright, when I rove at night,
To muse upon my charmer.
2. The partridge loves the fruitful fells,
3. Thus ev'ry kind their pleasure find,|
The savage and the tender;
Some social join and leagues combine,
Some solitary wander.
Avaunt away! the cruel sway,
Tyrannic man's dominion.
The sportsman's joy, the murd'ring cry,
The flutt'ring gory pinion!
4. But Peggy dear, the ev'ning's clear,
5. We'll gently walk and sweetly talk,|
Till the silent moon shines clearly;
I'll grasp thy waist and, fondly presst,
Swear how I love thee dearly.
Not vernal show'rs to budding flow'rs,
Not Autumn to the farmer,
So dear can be as thou to me,
My fair, and lovely charmer!
| Song Index | Home Page |