Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
158 . SongThe Bonie Moor-hen
T
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.
I rede you, beware at the hunting, young men; But cannily steal on a bonie moor-hen. Her colours betray’d her on yon mossy fells; Her plumage outlustr’d the pride o’ the spring And O! as she wanton’d sae gay on the wing. I rede you, &c. 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. I rede you,&c. The best of our lads wi’ the best o’ their skill; But still as the fairest she sat in their sight, Then, whirr! she was over, a mile at a flight. I rede you, &c.