It is one of Burns earliest songs, although he revised it later for publication. Written in 1775 at the time of Burns' infatuation with Peggy Thomson of Kirkoswald. `I spent my seventeenth summer,' he wrote in his autobiographical letter to Dr Moore in August 1787, `on a smuggling [coast] a good distance from home at a noted school, to learn Mensuration, Surveying, Dialling, etc ... I went on with a high hand in my Geometry; till the sun entered Virgo, a month which is always a carnival in my bosom, a charming Fillette who lived next door to the school overset my Trigonometry, and set me off on a tangent from the sphere of my studies.' Later, he tried out a modification of this early song in honour of Jean Armour; no known copy survives. Going back to the same song, Burns then sent a version which has a number of Scots words in place of the original English diction to be printed in `The Scots Musical Museum' (vol. iv, 1792, no. 351). Unusually for a love-song, `Now westlin winds' includes four lines of protest against the `slaught'ring guns' of sportsmen (ll 21-4).
Tune: I had a horse, I had nae mair
Now westlin winds, and slaught'ring guns western
Bring Autumn'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;
And the moon shines bright, as I rove by night,
To muse upon my charmer.
The paitrick lo'es the fruitfu fells; partridge
The plover lo'es the mountains;
The woodcock haunts the lonely dells;
The soaring hern the fountains: heron
Thro lofty groves, the cushat roves, pigeon
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, gory 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 of Nature;
The rustling corn, the fruited thorn,
And ilka happy creature. every
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!