And, wow! Tam saw an unco sight!
Warlocks and witches in a dance;
Nae cotillon brent-new1 frae France

But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels.
Put life and metal i' their heels:

At winnock-bunker,2 i' the east,
There sat auld Nick, in shape o' beast;
A towzie tyke,3 black, grim, and large,
To gie them music was his charge;

He screw'd the pipes, and gart1 them skirl,5
Till roof and rafters a' did dirl.6

Coffins stood round, like open presses,
That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses;
And by some devilish cantrip slight
Each in its cauld hand held a light,—
By which heroic Tam was able
To note upon the haly table,

A murderer's banes in gibbet airns;
Twa span-lang, wee unchristen'd bairns;
A thief, new-cutted frae a rape,
Wi' his last gasp his gab' did gape;
Five tomahawks, wi' bluid red-rusted;
Five scimitars, wi' murder crusted;
A garter, which a babe had strangled;
A knife, a father's throat had mangled,
Whom his ain son o' life bereft,

The gray hairs yet stack to the heft:8
Wi' mair o' horrible and awfu,'

Which even to name wad be unlawfu'.

As Tammie glower'd, amazed and curious, The mirth and fun grew fast and furious:

The piper loud and louder blew.
The dancers quick and quicker flew;

They reel'd, they set, they cross'd, they cleekit.
Till ilka carlin swat and reekit,1

And coost her duddies3 to the wark,

And linket at it in her sark.5

Now Tam! O Tam! had they been queans,

A' plump and strappin' in their teens,
Their sarks, instead o' creeshie flannen,'
Been snaw-white seventeen-hunder linen!*
Thir breeks o' mine, my only pair,
That ance were plush, o' guid blue hair,
I wad hae gien them aff my hurdies,"
For ae blink10 o' the bonny burdies!

But wither'd beldams, auld and droll,
Rigwoodie11 haps, wad spean1s a foal,
Lowpin' and flingin' on a cummock,13
I wonder didna turn thy stomach.

But Tam kenn'd14 what was what fu' brawlie,"
"There was ae winsome wench and walie,"16.
That night enlisted in the core,

(Lang after kenn'd on Carrick shore;
For mony a beast to dead she shot,

And perish'd mony a bonny boat,

1 Till each old Beldam

smoked with sweat.

2 Stript.

3 Clothes.

4 Tripped.

5 Shirt.

9 Hams.

10 Look.

11 Gallows-worthy.
12 Wean.

13 Jumping and ca

pering on a staff.

14 Knew.

15 Full well.

16 A hearty girl and jolly.

*The manufacturers' term for a fine linen woven in a reed of

1700 divisions.-CROMER.

+Allan Ramsay.

And shook baith meikle corn and bear,
And kept the country-side in fear.)
Her cutty sark,' o' Paisley harn,
That, while a lassie, she had worn,
In longitude though sorely scanty,
It was her best, and she was vauntie.?

Ah! little kenn'd thy reverend grannie,
That surk she coft3 for her wee Nannie,
Wi' twa pund Scots, ('twas a' her riches,)
Wad ever graced a dance o' witches!

5

But here my Muse her wing maun cour,
Sic flights are far beyond her power;
To sing how Nannie lap and flang,
(A souple jade she was, and strang,)
And how Tam stood, like ane bewitch'd,
And thought his very een enrich'd;

Even Satan glower'd, and fidged fu' fain,
And hotch'd and blew wi' might and main
Till first ae caper, syn6 eanither,
Tam tint his reason a' thegither,
And roars out, "Weel done, Cutty-sark!"
And in an instant a' was dark:

And scarcely had he Maggie rallied,
When out the hellish legion sallied;
As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke,

8

When plundering herds assail their byke,' As open pussie's 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,
Wi' mony an eldritch' screech and hollow.

Ah, Tam! ah, Tam! thou'lt get thy fairin'!?
In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin'!
In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin'!
Kate soon will be a woefu' woman!
Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg,
And win the keystane* of the brig;
There at them thou thy tail may toss,
A running stream they darena cross;
But ere the keystane she could make,
The fient 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 wist she Maggie's mettle-
Ae spring brought off her master hale,
But left behind her ain gray tail:
The Carlin caught her by the rump,
And left poor Maggie scarce a stump.

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

3 Ne'er.

4 Design.

1 Unearthly. 2 Deserts. *It is a well-known fact that witches, or any evil spirits, have no power to follow a poor wight any farther than the middle of the next running stream. It may be proper likewise to mention to the benighted traveler that, when he falls in with bogles, whatever danger may be in his going forward, there is much more hazard in turning back.-B.

TO A MOUSE.

ON TURNING UP HER NEST WITH THE PLOUGH, NOVEMBER, 1785.

WEE, sleekit, cowrin', tim'rous beastie,

Oh, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou needna start awa' sae hasty,

Wi' bickering brattle!'

I wad be latih to rin and chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!'

I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Has broken nature's social union,
And justifies that ill opinion

Which makes thee startle

At me, thy poor earth-born companion,
And fellow-mortal!

3

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave*

'S a sma request:

I'll get a blessin' wi' the lave,
And never miss't!

Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
Its silly wa's the win's are stewin'!
And naething now to big a new ane
O' foggage green!

And bleak December's winds ensuin',
Baith snell1 and keen!

Hurrying run.

3 Sometimes.

2 Pattle or pettle, the plough spado 4 Sharp.

* An ear of corn in a thrave-that is, twenty-four sheaves.