Now westlin winds/The rigs o' barley

by Robert Burns (1759-1796)

For other versions of this work, see It was upon a Lammas night.

IT WAS UPON A LAMMAS NIGHT,

It was upon a Lammas night,
When corn-rigs were bonnie,
Beneath the moon’s unclouded light,
I hied awa to Annie;
The time flew by wi' tentless heed,
Till, 'tween the late and early
Wi' sma' persuasion she agreed
To see me through the barley.

The sky was blue, the wind was still,
The moon was shining clearly.
I set her down, wi' right good-will,
Amang the rigs o' barley:
I kent her heart was a' my ain,
I lov'd her most sincerely;
I kiss'd her o'er and o'er again
Amang the rigs o' barley.

I lock'd her in my fond embrace,
Her heart was beating rarely;
My blessing on that happy place
Amang the rigs o' barley!
But by the moon and stars so bright
That shone that night so clearly,
She ay shall bliss that happy night,
Amang the rigs o' barley.

I hae been blythe wi' comrades dear,
I hae been merry drinkin',
I hae been joyfu' gath'ring gear,
I hae been happy thinkin':
But a' the pleasures e'er I saw,
Though three times doubled fairly
That happy night was worth them a'
Amang the rigs o' barley.