B-rg-ne gae up, like spur an' whip,
Till Frafer brave did fa', man;
Then loft his way, ae mifty day,
In Saratoga fhaw, man.
C-rnw-ll-s fought as lang's he dought,
An' did the Buckskin's claw, man;
But Cl-nt-n's glaive frae ruft to fave
He hung it to the wa', man.
Then M-nt-gue, an' Guilford too,
Began to fear a fa', man;
And S-ckv-lle doure, wha ftood the ftoure,
The German Chief to thráw, man:
For Paddy B-rke, like ony Turk,
Nae mercy had at a', man;
An' Charlie F-x threw by the box,
An' lows'd his tinkler jaw, man.'
Then R-ck-ngh-m took up the game,
Till Death did on him ca', man;
When Sh-lb-rne meek, held up his cheek,
Conform to Gofpel law, man:
Saint Stephen's boys, wi' jarring noise,
They did his measures thraw, man;
For N-rth an' F-x united fincks,
An' bore him to the wa', man,
Then Clubs an' Hearts were Charlie's cartes,
He swept the flakes awa', man;
Till the Diamond's Ace of Indian race,
Led him a fair faux pas, man:
The Saxon lads, wi' loud placads,
On Chatham's Boy did ca', man;
An' Scotland drew her pipe an' blew,
Up, Willie, waur them a', man!?
Behind the throne then Gr-nv-lle's gone,
A fecret word or twa, man;
While flee D-nd-s arous'd the clafs,
Be-north the Roman wa', man:
An' Chatham's wraith, in heav'nly graith,
(Inspired Bardie's faw, man;)
Wi' kindling eyes cry'd, Willie, rife!
'Would I hae fear'd them a', man!'
But, word an' blow, N-rth, F-x, and Co.
Gowff'd Willie like a ba', man;
Till Suthron raife, and cooft their claise
Behind him in a raw, man :
An' Caledon threw by the drone,
An' did her whittle draw, man;
An' fwoor fu' rude, thro' dirt an' bluid,
To make it guid in law, man.
Tune-Corn rigs are bonie.
It was upon a Lammas night,
When Corn rigs are bonie,
Beneath the moon's unclouded light,
I held awa to Annie:
The time flew by, wi' tentless heed,
Till 'tween the late and early;
Wi' fma' perfuafion fhe agreed,
To fee me thro' the barley..
The sky was blue, the wind was flill,
The moon was fhining clearly;
I fet her down wi' right good will,
Amang the rigs o' barley:
I ken't her heart was a' my ain;
I lov'd her moft fincerely;
I kifs'd her owre and owre again,
Amang the rigs o' barley.
I lock'd her in my fond embrace;
Her heart was beating rarely:
My bleffings on that happy place,
Amang the rigs o' barley!
But by the moon and ftars fo bright,
That fhone that hour fo clearly ↓
She ay fhall blefs that happy night,
Amang the rigs o' barley.
I hae been blythe wi' comrades dear;
I hae been merry drinking;
I hae been joyfu' gath'rin gear;
I hae been happy thinking:
But a' the pleasures e'er I faw,
Tho' three times doubl'd fairly,
That happy night was worth them a',
Amang the rigs o' barley.
Corn rigs, an' barley rigs,
An' corn rigs are bonie :
I'll ne'er forget that happy night,
Amang the rigs wi' Annie.
Tune-I had a horse, I had nae mair.
Now weflin winds, and flaught'ring guns
Bring Autumn's pleasant weather;
The moorcock fprings, on whirring wings,
Amang the blooming heather: :
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 Chatmer.
The Partridge loves the fruitful fells;
The Plover loves the mountains;
The woodcock haunts the lonely dells
The foaring Hern the fountains ;
Thro' lofty groves the Cufhat roves,
The path of man to fhun it;
The hazel bush o'erhangs the Thrush,
The spreading thorn the Linnet.
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 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 fky is blue, the fields in view,
All fading-green and yellow:
Come let us ftray our gladsome way,
And view the charms of Nature;
The ruffling corn, the fruited thorn,
And ev'ry happy creature.
We'll gently walk, and sweetly talk,
Till the filent moon fhine clearly;
I'll grafp thy waift, and, fondly prest,
Swear how I love thee dearly;
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