Page:Alloway Kirk or Tam o Shanter a tale and man was made to mourn a poem with a sketch of burnss life.pdf/19

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In longitude tho’ sorely scanty,
It was her best, and she was vaunty.—
Ah, little thought thy reverend Grannie,
That sark she coft for her wee Nannie,
Wi’ twa pund Scots, (’twas a’ their riches)
Wad ever grac’d a dance of 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 betwitched,
And thought his vera een enriched;
Even Satan glowr’d, and fig’d fu’ fain,
And hotch’d, and blew wi’ might an’ main:
Till first ae caper—syne anither—
Tam lost his reason a’ thegither,
Then roars out—“Weel done, Cutty sark!!”
And in an instant all is dark,
And scarcely he has maggie rallied,
Till out the hellish legion sallied.—

⁠As bees biz out wi’ angry fyke,
When plundering herds assail their byke;
As open pussies mortal foes
When pop, she starts before their nose:
As eager rins the market-croud.
When “Catch the thief!” resounds aloud;
So Maggie rins, the witches follow
Wi’ mony an eldric shout and hollo,—

⁠Ah Tam! ah Tam! thou’ll get thy fairing!
In hell they’ll roast thee like a herring!