Now westlin winds/Now westlin winds
NOW WESTLIN WINDS,
Now westlin winds and slaught'ring guns
Bring autumn's pleasant weather;
The moorcock springs, on whirry wings,
Amang the blooming heather:
Now waving grain, wide o'er the plain,
Delights the weary farmer;
And the moon shines bright when I rove at night
To muse upon my charmer.
The patridge loves the fruitful fells,
The plover loves the mountains,
The woodcock haunts the lonely dells,
The soaring heron the fountains;
Through lofty groves the cushat roves,
The path of man to shun it;
The hazel bush o'erhangs the thrush,
The spreading thorn the linnet.
Thus every 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!
But, Peggy dear, the evening's clear,
Thick flies the skimming swallow;
The sky is blue, the fields in view
All fading green and yellow:
Come, let us stray our gladsome way,
And view the charms of nature,
The rustling corn, the bushy thorn,
And every happy creature.
We'll gently walk, and sweetly talk,
Till the silent moon shine clearly;
I'll grasp thy waist, and fondly press't,
Swear how I love thee dearly.
Not vernal show'rs to budding flow'rs,
Nor autumn to the farmer,
So dear can be as thou to me,
My fair, my lovely charmer.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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