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But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels,
Pat life and mettle in their heels:
A winnock-bunker in the east,
There sat auld Nick, in shape o' beast;
A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large,
To gie them music was his charge:
He screw'd the pipes, and gart them skirl,
Till roof and rafters a' did dirl.—
Coffins stood round like open presses,
That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses:
And by some devilish cantrip slight,
Each in its cauld hand held a light!—
By which heroic Tam was able
To note upon the haly table,
A murderer's banes in gibbet-airns!
Twa span-lang, wee, unchristen'd bairns;
A thief, new cutted frae a rape,
Wi' his last gasp his gab 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!
Three lawyers' tongues turn'd inside-out,
Wi' lies seem'd like a beggar's clout:
And priests hearts, rotten black as muck,
Lay stinkin vile in every neuk!
Wi' mair of horrible and awfu'!
Which ev'n to name and be unlawfu'.
As Tammie glowr'd, amazed and curious,
The mirth and fun stew fast and furiousǃ
The piper loud and louder blew,
The dancers quick and quicker flewǃ
Pat life and mettle in their heels:
A winnock-bunker in the east,
There sat auld Nick, in shape o' beast;
A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large,
To gie them music was his charge:
He screw'd the pipes, and gart them skirl,
Till roof and rafters a' did dirl.—
Coffins stood round like open presses,
That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses:
And by some devilish cantrip slight,
Each in its cauld hand held a light!—
By which heroic Tam was able
To note upon the haly table,
A murderer's banes in gibbet-airns!
Twa span-lang, wee, unchristen'd bairns;
A thief, new cutted frae a rape,
Wi' his last gasp his gab 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!
Three lawyers' tongues turn'd inside-out,
Wi' lies seem'd like a beggar's clout:
And priests hearts, rotten black as muck,
Lay stinkin vile in every neuk!
Wi' mair of horrible and awfu'!
Which ev'n to name and be unlawfu'.
As Tammie glowr'd, amazed and curious,
The mirth and fun stew fast and furiousǃ
The piper loud and louder blew,
The dancers quick and quicker flewǃ
