More generally known as Westlin Winds, this early poem-cum-song shows Robert Burns’s delight in both the countryside and in his dalliance with his lover – though that delight definitely does not extend to field sports.

SONG, COMPOSED IN AUGUST

Now westlin winds, and slaught’ring guns

Bring Autumn’s pleasant weather;

The Moorcock springs, on whirring wings,

Amang the blooming heather:

New waving grain, wide o’er the plain,

Delights the weary Farmer;

The moon shines bright, as I rove at night

To muse upon my Charmer.

~

The Pairtrick lo’es  the fruitfu’ fells;

The Plover lo’es the mountains;

The Woodcock haunts the lanely dells

The soaring Hern the fountains:

Thro’ lofty groves, the Cushat roves,

The path o’ man to shun it;

The hazel bush o’erhangs the Thrush,

The spreading thorn the Linnet.

~

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!

~

But Peggy dear, the ev’ning’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 o’ Nature;

The rustling corn, the fruited thorn,

And ilka happy creature…