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POEMS,

CHIEFLY

SCOTTISH.

BOOK IV.

HUMOROUS, SATIRICAL, EPIGRAMMATICAL, AND

MISCELLANEOUS.

TAM O' SHANTER,

A TALE.

Of Brownyis and of Bogilis full is this Buke.

Gawin Douglas. WHEN chapman billies leave the street, And drouthy neebors, neebors meet, As market-days are wearing late, An' folk begin to tak the gate; While we sit bousing at the nappy, An' getting fou and unco happy, We think na on the lang Scots miles, The mosses, waters, slaps, and styles, That lie between us and our hame, Whare sits our-sulky, sullen dame,

Vou. II.-B.

Gath’ring her brows like gath’ring storm,
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

This truth fand honest Tam o' Shanter,
As he, fiae Ayr, ae night did canter,
(Auld Ayr whain ne'er a town surpasses,
For honest men and bonie lasses.)

O Tam! had'st thou but been sae wise, As taen thy ain wife Kate's advice! She tauld thee weel thou was a skellum, A blethering, blustering, drunken blellum ; That frae November till October, Ae market-day thou was na sober,“ That ilka melder, wi' the miller, Thou sat as lang as thou had siller; That ev'ry naig was ca'd a shoe on, The smith and thee gat roaring fou on, That at the L-d's house, ev'n on Sunday, Thou drank wi' Kirton Jean till Monday. She prophesy'd, that, late or soon, Thou would be found deep drown'd in Doon; Or catch'd wi’ warlocks in the mirk, By Alloway's auld haunted kirk.

Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet,
To think how monie counsels sweet,
How monie lengthen'd sage advices,
'The husband frae the wife despises!

But to our tale : Ae market night,
T'am had got planted unco right:
Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely,
Wi' reaming swats, that drank divinely;
ind at his elbow, souter Johnny,

ancient, trusty, drouthy crony;

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