CHORUS. Corn rigs, an' barley rigs, I'll ne'er forget that happy night, SONG II. .COMPOSED IN THE MONTH OF AUGUST. NOW WESTLIN WINDS, &c. AIR. I HAD A HORSE, &c.” I. Now westlin winds, and slaught'ring guns 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. II. The partridge loves the fruitful fells; The plover loves the mountains; The woodcock haunts the lonely dells; Thro' lofty groves the cushat roves III. Thus ev'ry kind their pleasure find, 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! IV. But Peggy dear, the ev'ning's clear, |