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SONG.
COMPOSED IN AUGUST.
Tune—I had a Horse, &c.
Now Westlin winds, and slaught'ring guns,
Bring Autumn's pleasant weather;
The Muircock springs on whirring wings,
Amang the blooming heather:
Now waving grain, wide owre the plain,
Delights the weary Farmer;
The moon shines bright, when I rove at night,
To muse upon my Charmer.
Bring Autumn's pleasant weather;
The Muircock springs on whirring wings,
Amang the blooming heather:
Now waving grain, wide owre the plain,
Delights the weary Farmer;
The moon shines bright, when I rove at night,
To muse upon my Charmer.
The Partridge loves the fruitful fell,
The Plover loves the mountains,
The Woodcock haunts the lonely dales,
The soaring Heron the fountains,
Thro' lofty groves the Cushat roves,
The paths of man to shun it,
The hazel bush o'erhangs the Thrush,
The spreading thorn the Linnet,
The Plover loves the mountains,
The Woodcock haunts the lonely dales,
The soaring Heron the fountains,
Thro' lofty groves the Cushat roves,
The paths of man to shun it,
The hazel bush o'erhangs the Thrush,
The spreading thorn the Linnet,
Thus ev'ry kind their nature 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'rer's cry,
The flutt'ring gory pinion.
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'rer's cry,
The flutt'ring gory pinion.
