The Bonie Moor-Hen |
Robert Burns, 1787
The heather was blooming, the meadows were mawn, Our lads gaed a-hunting ae day at the dawn, O'er moors and o'er mosses and mony a glen, At length they discover'd a bonie moor-hen. Chorus: |: I rede you, beware at the hunting, young men, :| Take some on the wing, and some as they spring, But cannily steal on a bonie moor-hen.
2. Sweet-brushing the dew from the brown heather bells |
3. Auld Phoebus himself, as he peep'd o'er the hill, In spite at her plumage he tried his skill; He levell'd his rays where she bask'd on the brae His rays were outshone, and but mark'd where she lay. Chorus:
4. They hunted the valley, they hunted the hill, |