Or where auld ruin'd castles, gray,
Nod to the moon,

Ye fright the nightly wand'rer's way
Wi' eldritch croon.

When twilight did my Grannie summon
To say her prayers, douce, honest woman!
Aft yont the dyke she's heard you bummin',
Wi' eerie drone;

Or, rustlin, thro' the boortries comin',

Wi' heavy groan.

Ae dreary, windy, winter night,

The stars shot down wi' sklentin' light,

Wi' you, mysel, I gat a fright

Ayont the lough;

Ye, like a rash-bush, stood in sight,

Wi' waving sough.

The cudgel in my nieve did shake,

Each bristl'd hair stood like a stake,

When wi' an eldritch, stoor quaick—quaick—

Amang the springs,

Awa ye squatter'd, like a drake,

On whistling wings.

Let warlocks grim, an' wither'd hags,
Tell how wi' you, on ragweed nags,
They skim the muirs an' dizzy crags,
Wi' wicked speed;

And in kirk-yards renew their leagues
Owre howkit dead.

Thence countra wives, wi' toil an' pain,
May plunge an' plunge the kirn in vain :
For, oh! the yellow treasure's taen

By witching skill;

An' dawtit, twal-pint hawkie's gaen

As yell's the bill.

Thence mystic knots mak great abuse

On young guidmen, fond, keen, an' crouse,

When the best wark-lume i' the house, By cantrip wit,

Is instant made no worth a louse,

Just at the bit.

When thowes dissolve the snawy hoord, An' float the jinglin icy-boord,

Then water-kelpies haunt the foord,

By your direction;

An' nighted trav'lers are allur'd

To their destruction.

An' aft your moss-traversing spunkies
Decoy the wight that late an' drunk is:
The bleezin, curst, mischievous monkeys
Delude his eyes,

Till in some miry slough he sunk is,
Ne'er mair to rise.

When masons' mystic word an' grip
In storms an' tempests raise you up,
Some cock or cat your rage maun stop,
Or, strange to tell!

The youngest brother ye wad whip

Aff straught to hell!

Lang syne, in Eden's bonnie yard, When youthfu' lovers first were pair'd, An' all the soul of love they shar'd,

The raptur'd hour,

Sweet on the fragrant, flow'ry sward,

In shady bow'r:

Then you, ye auld, snec-drawing dog! Ye came to Paradise incog.,

An' play'd on man a cursed brogue,

(Black be your fa'!)

An' gied the infant warld a shog,

Maist ruin'd a'.

D'ye mind that day, when in a bizz,

Wi' reekit duds, an' reestit gizz,

Ye did present your smoutie phiz

'Mang better folk,

An' sklented on the man of Uz

Your spitefu' joke?

An' how ye gat him i' your thrall,
An' brak him out o' house an' hall,
While scabs an' botches did him gall,

Wi' bitter claw,

And lows'd his ill-tongu'd, wicked scawl,
Was warst ava?

But a' your doings to rehearse,
Your wily snares an' fechtin' fierce,
Sin' that day Michael did you pierce,
Down to this time,

Wad ding a Lallan tongue, or Erse,
In prose or rhyme.

An' now, auld Cloots, I ken ye're thinkin',
A certain Bardie's rantin', drinkin',

Some luckless hour will send him linkin'

To your black pit;

But, faith! he'll turn a corner jinkin',

An' cheat you yet.

But, fare you weel, auld Nickie-ben!
O wad ye tak a thought an' men'!
Ye aiblins might-I dinna ken—

Still hae a stake

I'm wae to think upo' yon den,

Ev'n for your sake!!

THE DEVIL'S WALK ON EARTH.

ROBERT SOUTHEY.

FROM his brimstone bed at break of day

A walking the Devil is gone,

To look at his snug little farm of the World,
And see how his stock went on,

Over the hill and over the dale,
And he went over the plain;

And backward and forward he swish'd his tail,
As a gentleman swishes a cane.

How then was the Devil drest?

Oh, he was in his Sunday's best

His coat was red and his breeches were blue,
And there was a hole where his tail came through.

A lady drove by in her pride,

In whose face an expression he spied

For which he could have kiss'd her;
Such a flourishing, fine, clever woman was she,
With an eye as wicked as wicked can be,
I should take her for my Aunt, thought he,
If my dam had had a sister.

He met a lord of high degree,
No matter what was his name;

Whose face with his own when he came to compare
The expression, the look, and the air,

And the character, too, as it seem'd to a hair-
Such a twin-likeness there was in the pair

That it made the Devil start and stare,

For he thought there was surely a looking-glass there, But he could not see the frame.

He saw a Lawyer killing a viper,
On a dung-hill beside his stable;
Ha! quoth he, thou put'st me in mind
Of the story of Cain and Abel.

An Apothecary on a white horse

Rode by on his vocation;

And the Devil thought of his old friend

Death in the Revelation.

He pass'd a cottage with a double coach-house,

A cottage of gentility,

And he own'd with a grin

That his favorite sin,

Is pride that apes humility,

He saw a pig rapidly
Down a river float;

The pig swam well, but every stroke
Was cutting his own throat;

And Satan gave thereat his tail
A twirl of admiration;

For he thought of his daughter War,
And her suckling babe Taxation.

Well enough, in sooth, he liked that truth,
And nothing the worse for the jest;

But this was only a first thought

And in this he did not rest:

Another came presently into his head,
And here it proved, as has often been said,
That second thoughts are best.

For as Piggy plied with wind and tide,
His way with such celerity,

And at every stroke the water dyed
With his own red blood, the Devil cried,
Behold a swinish nation's pride

In cotton-spun prosperity.

He walk'd into London leisurely,
The streets were dirty and dim:
But there he saw Brothers the Prophet,
And Brothers the Prophet saw him.

He entered a thriving bookseller's shop;
Quoth he, we are both of one college,
For I myself sate like a Cormorant once
Upon the Tree of Knowledge.

As he passed through Cold-Bath Fields he look'd
At a solitary cell;

And he was well-pleased, for it gave him a hint
For improving the prisons of Hell.

He saw a turnkey tie a thief's hands
With a cordial tug and jerk;

Nimbly, quoth he, a man's fingers move
When his heart is in his work.