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His piercing words, like Highland swords,
Divide the joints and marrow;
His talk o' hell whare devils dwell,
Our very sauls do harrow[1],
—i' fright that day!
Divide the joints and marrow;
His talk o' hell whare devils dwell,
Our very sauls do harrow[1],
—i' fright that day!
A vast unbottom'd, boundless pit,
Fill'd fou o' lowin brunstane,
Wha's ragin flame, and scorchin heat
Wad melt the hardest whun-stane!
The ha'f asleep start up wi' fear,
And think they hear it roarin!
When presently it does appear,
'Twas but some neighbour snorin
Asleep that day.
Fill'd fou o' lowin brunstane,
Wha's ragin flame, and scorchin heat
Wad melt the hardest whun-stane!
The ha'f asleep start up wi' fear,
And think they hear it roarin!
When presently it does appear,
'Twas but some neighbour snorin
Asleep that day.
'Twad be owre lang a tale to tell,
How mony stories past,
And how they crouded to the yill,
When they were a' dismist;
How drink gad round in cogs and caups,
Amang the furms and benches,
And cheese and bread, frae women's laps,
Was dealt about in lunches,
And dauds that day.
How mony stories past,
And how they crouded to the yill,
When they were a' dismist;
How drink gad round in cogs and caups,
Amang the furms and benches,
And cheese and bread, frae women's laps,
Was dealt about in lunches,
And dauds that day.
In comes a gaucie, gash gudewife,
And sits down by the fire,
Syne draws her kebbeck and her knife;
The lasses they are shyer.
The auld gudemen, about the grace,
Frae side to side they bother,
Till some ane by his bonnet lays,
And gies them't like a tether,
Fu' lang that day..
And sits down by the fire,
Syne draws her kebbeck and her knife;
The lasses they are shyer.
The auld gudemen, about the grace,
Frae side to side they bother,
Till some ane by his bonnet lays,
And gies them't like a tether,
Fu' lang that day..
