Song Composed in August by Robert Burns...

Now westlin winds, and slaught'ring guns
Bring August'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;
The moon shines bright, as I rove at night,
To muse upon my Charmer.

The Partridge loves the fruitfu' fells;
The Plover loves the mountains;
The woodcock haunts the lonely dells;
The soaring Heron the fountains:
Thro' lofty groves, the Cushat roves,
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, some 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,
Swift 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 o' Nature:
The rustling corn, the fruited thorn
And every happy creature.

We'll gently walk, and sweetly talk,
While the silent moon shines clearly;
I'll clasp thy waist, and fondly prest,
Swear how I love thee dearly:
Not vernal show'rs to budding flow'rs,
Nor Autumn to the Farmer,
So dear can be, as thou to me,
My fair, my lovely Charmer!

he also did the "Corn Rigs and Barley Rigs" song...