Robert Burns on a Martin Guitar

A Beautiful Song Nicely Rendered

Scottish balladeer Dick Gaughan sings Robert Burns’ Now Westlin Winds and Slaught’ring guns

‘Now westlin winds and slaught’ring guns
Bring Autumn’s pleasant weather;
The moorcock springs on whirring wings
Among the blooming heather;
Now waving grain, wild o’er the plain,
Delights the weary farmer;
And the moon shines bright, when I rove at night,
To muse upon my charmer.
2. The partridge loves the fruitful fells,
The plover loves the mountains;
The woodcock haunts the lonely dells,
The soaring hern the fountains.
Thro’ lofty groves the cushat roves,
The path of man to shun it;
The hazel bush o’erhangs the thrush,
The spreading thorn the linnet.
3. 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!
4. But Peggy dear, the ev’ning’s clear,
Thick files the skimming swallow,
The sky is blue, the field’s in view,
All fading green and yellow.
Come let us stray our gladsome way,
And view the charms of Nature;
The rustling corn, the fruited thorn,
And ev’ry happy creature.
5. We’ll gently walk and sweetly talk,
Till the silent moon shines clearly;
I’ll grasp thy waist and, fondly presst,
Swear how I love 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, and lovely charmer!’
R. Burns 1783



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