3
Or catch'd wi' warlocks in the mirk,
By Aloway's auid haunted Kirk,
AH, gentle dames' it gars me greet,
To think how many counſils sweet,
How many lengthen'd, ſage advices,
The husband frae the wife despises.
But to our tale; Ae market night,
Tam had got planted unco right;
Fast by an ingle. bleezing finely,
Wi' reaming ſwats. that drank divinely;
Had, at his elbow, Souter Jonny,
His ancient, truſty, drouthy crony;
Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither;
They had been fou for weeks thegither,
The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter,
And age the ale was growing better:
The Landlady and Tam grew gracious,
Wi' favours, ſecret, sweet, and precious;
The Souser tauld his queerest stories,
The Landlord's laugh was ready chorus:
The ſtorm without might roar and rustle,
Tam didna mind the ſtorm a whistle.—
Care, mad to see a man sae happy,
E'en drown'd himſelf amang, the nappy;
As bees fle home wi' lades'o' treaſure;
The minutes wing'd their way with pleasure;
Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious,
O'er a' the ills of life victorious!
But pleaſures are like poppies spread,
You seize the power, its bloom is ſhed;
Or, like the snow falls in the river,
A moment white—then melts for ever;
