And by some devilish cantrip1 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,3 unchristian 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 grey hairs yet stack to the heft:"
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,"
And coost her duddies' to the wark,
And linket 10 at it in her sark.11
Now Tam! O Tam! had thae been queans,1
A' plump and strappin' in their teens,
Their sarks, instead o' creeshie flannen,2
Been snaw-white seventeen-hunder linen !*
Thir breeks3 o' mine, my only pair,
That ance were plush, o' guid blue hair,
I wad hae gien them aff my hurdies,*
For ae blink o' the bonny burdies!"
But wither'd beldams, auld and droll,
Rigwoodie hags, wad spean a foal,
Lowpin' and flingin' on a cummock,
I wonder didna turn thy stomach.
But Tam kenn'd 10 what was what fu' brawlie,11
'There was ae winsome wench and walie,"
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,
And shook baith meikle corn and bear,
And kept the country-side in fear).
Her cutty sark,13 o' Paisley harn,
That, while a lassie, 14 she had worn,
1 Young girls. 2 Greasy flannel. 3 These breeches.
5 Look.
'Jumping and capering on a staff. 10 Knew.
12 A hearty girl and jolly.
The manufacturer's term for a fine linen woven in a reed of
In longitude though sorely scanty,
It was her best, and she was vauntie.1
Ah! little kenn'd thy reverend grannie,
That sark she coft2 for her wee Nannie,
Wi' twa pund Scots ('twas a' her riches),
Wad ever graced a dance o' witches!
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, syneR anither,
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,10
When plundering herds assail their byke,"
As open pussie's mortal foes,
When, pop! she starts before their nose;
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