: II. The sky was blue, the wind was still, I ken't her heart was a' my ain; I kifs'd her owre and owre again III. I lock'd her in my fond embrace; My bleffings on that happy plaće, Amang the rigs o' barley! But by the moon and ftars fo bright, That fhone that hour fo clearly! She She ay shall bless that happy night, Amang the rigs o' barley. IV. I hae been blythe wi' comrades dear; That happy night was worth them a', CHORUS. Corn rigs, an' barley rigs, An' corn rigs are bonnie: I'll ne'er forget that happy night, SONG, COMPOSED IN AUGUST. Tune,-I had a borfe, I bad nae mair. I. Now weftlin winds, and flaughtʼring guns Bring Autumn's pleasant weather; Now waving grain, wide o'er the plain, Delights the weary Farmer; And the moon fhines bright, when I rove at night, To mufe upon my Charmer. II. II. The Partridge loves the fruitful fells; The foaring Hern the fountains: Thro' lofty groves the Cufhat roves L Thus ev'ry kind their pleasure find, The favage and the tender; Some focial join, and leagues combine; Some folitary wander: Avaunt, away! the cruel fway, The Sportsman's joy, the murd'ring cry, IV. But Peggy dear, the ev'ning's clear, The sky is blue, the fields in view, Come let us ftray our gladsome way, T And view the charms of Nature; The rustling corn, the fruited thorn, V. We'll gently walk, and sweetly talk, Swear how I love thee dearly: Not |