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Of Brownyis and of Bogillis full is this buke. GAWIN DOUGLAS

When chapman billies 1 leave the street, And drouthy 2 neibors neibors meet, As market-days are wearing late, And folk begin to tak the gate; While we sit bousin at the nappy,3 And gettin fou and unco happy, We think na on the lang Scots miles, The mosses, waters, slaps, and stiles, That lie between us and our hame, Whare sits our sulky, sullen dame, Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

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1 pedlers thirsty ale marvellously gaps

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Fast by an ingle,12 bleezin finely,

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Wi' reamin swats 13 that drank divinely; 40 And at his elbow, Souter Johnie,

His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony:

Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither; 14

They had been fou 15 for weeks thegither.

The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter; 45 And ay the ale was growing better: The landlady and Tam grew gracious Wi' secret favours, sweet, and precious: The souter 16 tauld his queerest stories; The landlord's laugh was ready chorus: The storm without might rair and rustle, Tam did na mind the storm a whistle.

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1 wretch 2 idle-talker 3 one every grinding nag 7 driven 8 wizards dark makes 11 weep 12 fireside 13 foaming ale 14 brother 15 full 16 cobbler 17 ale

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Nae man can tether time or tide:

The hour approaches Tam maun ride,

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That hour, o' night's black arch the key- And, wow! Tam saw an unco sight! stane,

That dreary hour he mounts his beast in; 70
And sic a night he taks the road in,
As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in.

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Warlocks and witches in a dance; Nae cotillon brent-new 5 frae France, But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels Put life and mettle in their heels:

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To note upon the haly table

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A murderer's banes in gibbet airns; 13
Twa span-lang, wee, unchristen'd bairns;
A thief, new-cutted frae the rape 14
Wi' his last gasp his gab 15 did gape;
Five tomahawks, wi' blude 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 bereft
The grey hairs yet stack to the heft;
Wi' mair o' horrible and awfu',
Which ev'n to name wad be unlawfu'.

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By this time he was cross the ford, Whare in the snaw the chapman smoor'd; 5 And past the birks and meikle stane, Whare drucken 8 Charlie brak's neck-bane; 9 And thro' the whins,10 and by the cairn," Whare hunters fand the murder'd bairn; And near the thorn, aboon 13 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 seemed in a bleeze: 14 Thro' ilka bore 15 the beams were glancing, And loud resounded mirth and dancing.

Inspiring bold John Barleycorn! What dangers thou can'st make us scorn! Wi' tippenny 16 we fear nae evil;

Wi' usquebae 17 we'll face the devil!

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