Pennywhistle notation and Dulcimer tab for this song is also available
Now Westlin Winds (Robert Burns) Now westlin winds, and slaught'ring guns Bring August's pleasant weather; The moorcock springs, on whirring wings, Amang the blooming heather; Now 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, gorg 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. We'll gently walk, and sweetly talk, While the silent moon shines clearly; I'll clasp thy waist, and fondly prest, Swear how I lo'e 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, my lovely Charmer! tune: I had a horse, I had nae mair RG
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!