Of Brownyis and of Bogillis full is this Buke.
-GAWIN DOUGLAS.

When chapman billies3 leave the street,
And drouthy neebors, neebors meet;
As market-days are wearin late,
An' folk begin to tak the gate;5
5 While we sit bousing at the nappy,"
An' gettin' fou and uncos happy,
We think na on the lang Scots miles,"
The mosses, waters, slaps,10 and styles,
That lie between us and our hame,
10 Whare sits our sulky, sullen dame,
Gathering her brows like gathering
storm,

Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

This truth fand11 honest Tam o'

Shanter,

As he frae Ayr ae night did canter: 15 (Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses, For honest men and bonie lasses).

O Tam, hadst thou but been sae wise,
As taen thy ain wife Kate's advice!
She tauld thee weel thou was a skellum.12

20 A blethering, 13 blustering, drunken blellum;14

That frae November till October, Ae market-day thou was nae sober; That ilka melder15 wi' the miller, Thou sat as lang as thou had siller; 25 That ev'ry naig was ca'd16 a shoe on, The smith and thee gat roaring fou on; That at the Lord's house, even on Sunday, Thou drank wi' Kirkton Jean till Mon

Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet1 To think how monie counsels sweet, 35 How monie lengthen 'd, sage advices, The husband frae the wife despises !

But to our tale:-Ae market-night,
Tam had got planted unco right;
Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely,

40 Wi' reaming swats, that drank divinely;

And at his elbow, Souter Johnie, His ancient, trusty, drouthy cronie; Tam lo'ed him like a very brither; They had been fou for weeks thegither! 45 The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter; And ay the ale was growing better: The landlady and Tam grew gracious Wi' secret favors, sweet and precious; The Souter tauld his queerest stories; 50 The landlord's laugh was ready chorus: The storm without might rair and rustle, Tam did na mind the storm a whistle.

Care, mad to see a man sae happy, E'en drown'd himsel amang the nappy. 55 As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure, The minutes wing'd their way wi' pleasure:

Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious,
O'er a' the ills o' life victorious!

But pleasures are like poppies spread; 60 You seize the flow 'r, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white-then melts forever; Or like the borealis race,

That flit ere you can point their place; 65 Or like the rainbow's lovely form, Evanishing amid the storm.

Nae man can tether time or tide;
The hour approaches Tam maun ride:

85 Whiles glow'ring round wi' prudent cares,
Lest bogles catch him unawares;
Kirk-Alloway was drawing nigh,
Where ghaists and houlets nightly cry.

By this time he was cross the ford, 90 Whare in the snaw the chapman smoor'd;"

95

100

105

And past the birks and meikle stane,
Whare drunken Charlie brak's neckbane;
And thro' the whins,10 and by the cairn,11
Where hunters fand the murder'd bairn;12
And near the thorn, aboon the well,
Whare Mungo's mither hang'd hersel.
Before him Doon pours all his floods;
The doubling storm roars thro' the woods;
The lightnings flash from pole to pole;
Near and more near the thunders roll;
When, glimmering thro' the groaning
trees,

Kirk-Alloway seem'd in a bleeze;13
Thro' ilka bore14 the beams were glancing;
And loud resounded mirth and dancing.

Inspiring bold John Barleycorn,
What dangers thou canst make us scorn!
Wi' tippenny,15 we fear nae evil;
Wi' usquabae,16 we'll face the devil!
The swats sae ream 'd17 in Tammie's noddle,
110 Fair play, he car'd na deils a boddle.18
But Maggie stood, right sair astonish'd,
Till, by the heel and hand admonish'd,
She ventur'd forward on the light;
And, vow! Tam saw an unco1o sight!

The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last; The rattling showers rose on the blast; 75 The speedy gleams the darkness swallow'd;

Loud, deep, and lang, the thunder bel

low'd:

That night, a child might understand, The Deil had business on his hand.

1 makes me grieve

2 fire-side

Warlocks 20 and witches in a dance; Nae cotillion, brent-new21 frae France, But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels, 22

Put life and mettle in their heels. A winnock-bunker23 in the east, 120 There sat Auld Nick, in shape o' beast; A tousie tyke,24 black, grim, and large,

a foaming ale

12 child

⚫ cobbler

13 blaze

14 every crevice
15 two-penny ale
16 whiskey

17 ale so foamed

18 copper

19 strange

20 wizards

21 brand-new

22 Names of Scottish dances.

23 window-seat

24 touseled, shaggy cur

To gie them music was his charge;
He screw'd the pipes and gart them
skirl,1

Till roof and rafters a' did dirl.2 125 Coffins stood round, like open presses, That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses;

And, by some devilish cantraip sleight,3 Each in its cauld hand held a light, By which heroic Tam was able 130 To note upon the haly* table,

6

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A murderer's banes in gibbet-airns;5 Twa span-lang, wee, unchristen'd bairns; A thief, new-cutted frae a rape, Wi' his last gasp his gab did gape; 135 Five tomahawks, wi' bluid red-rusted; Five scymitars, wi' murder crusted; A garter, which a babe had strangled; A knife, a father's throat had mangled, Whom his ain son o' life bereft140 The gray hairs yet stack to the heft; Wi' mair o' horrible an' awefu', Which even to name wad be unlawfu'.

But Tam kend what was what fu' brawlie:1

There was ae winsome wench and wawlie,2 165 That night enlisted in the core,3

Lang after kend on Carrick shore (For monie a beast to dead she shot, An' perish'd monie a bonie boat, And shook baith meikle corn and bear, 170 And kept the country-side in fear); Her cutty sark,5 o' Paisley harn," That while a lassie she had worn, In longitude tho' sorely scanty, It was her best, and she was vauntie. 175 Ah! little kend thy reverend grannie, That sark she cofts for her wee Nannie, Wi' twa pund Scots" ('twas a ' her riches), Wad ever grac'd a dance of witches!

But here my Muse her wing maun cour;10

180 Sic flights are far beyond her power; To sing how Nannie lap and flang11 (A souple jad she was, and strang), And how Tam stood like ane bewitch'd, And thought his very een enrich'd;

12

185 Even Satan glowr'd, and fidg'd fu' fain,1 And hotched1 and blew wi' might and main:

Till first ae caper, syne anither, Tam tint14 his reason a' thegither, And roars out: "Weel done, Cutty-sark!'' 190 And in an instant all was dark;

And scarcely had he Maggie rallied,
When out the hellish legion sallied.

As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke,15 When plundering herds16 assail their byke;17

As open 18 pussie's19 mortal foes,
When, pop! she starts before their nose;
As eager runs the market-crowd,
When "Catch the thief!" resounds
aloud;

So Maggie runs, the witches follow, 200 Wi' monie an eldritch20 skriech and hollo.

Ah, Tam! ah, Tam! thou 'lt get thy
fairin !21

In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin!
In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin!

Kate soon will be a woefu' woman! 205 Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg,

And win the key-stane of the brig;1 There, at them thou thy tail may toss, A running stream they dare na cross; But ere the key-stane she could make, 210 The fient2 a tail she had to shake;

For Nannie, far before the rest, Hard upon noble Maggie prest, And flew at Tam wi' furious ettle; But little wist1 she Maggie's mettle215 Ae spring brought off her master hale, But left behind her ain gray tail: The carlin claught her by the rump, And left poor Maggie scarce a stump.

Now, wha this tale o' truth shall read, 220 Ilk man and mother's son take heed: Whene'er to drink you are inclin'd, Or cutty sarks run in your mind, Think! ye may buy the joys o'er dear; Remember Tam o' Shanter's mare.

15 But the ae best dance e'er cam to the