1.
Tam o' Shanter. -- A Tale. --
Aloway-kirk, the scene of the following Poem, is an
old Ruin in Ayr-shire, hard by the great road
from Ayr to Maybole, on the banks of the river,
Doon, & near the old bridge of that name. --
A Drawing of this Ruin will make its
appearance in Grose's antiquities of Scotland. --
When chapmen billies leave the street,
And drouthy neebors neebors meet,
As market-days are wearing late,
And folk begin to tak the gate;
While we sit bowsing at the nappy,
And getting fou, & unco happy,
We think na on the lang Scots miles,
The mosses, waters, slaps & stiles,
That lie between us & our hame,
Where sits our sulky, sullen dame,
Gathering
Tam o' Shanter. -- A Tale. --
Aloway-kirk, the scene of the following Poem, is an
old Ruin in Ayr-shire, hard by the great road
from Ayr to Maybole, on the banks of the river,
Doon, & near the old bridge of that name. --
A Drawing of this Ruin will make its
appearance in Grose's antiquities of Scotland. --
When chapmen billies leave the street,
And drouthy neebors neebors meet,
As market-days are wearing late,
And folk begin to tak the gate;
While we sit bowsing at the nappy,
And getting fou, & unco happy,
We think na on the lang Scots miles,
The mosses, waters, slaps & stiles,
That lie between us & our hame,
Where sits our sulky, sullen dame,
Gathering
2.
Gathering her brows like gathering storm,
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. ----
This truth fand honest Tam o' Shanter,
As he frae Ayr ae night did canter,
(Auld Ayr wham ne'er a town surpasses
For honest men & bonie lasses. --)
O Tam! hadst thou but been sae wise
As taen thy ain wife Kate's advice!
She tauld thee weel thou was a skellum,
A bletherin, blusterin, 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 every naig was ca'd a shoe on,
The Smith & thee gat roarin fou on;
That at the L--d's house even on Sunday,
Thou drank wi' Kirkton Jean till Monday. --
She, She
Gathering her brows like gathering storm,
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. ----
This truth fand honest Tam o' Shanter,
As he frae Ayr ae night did canter,
(Auld Ayr wham ne'er a town surpasses
For honest men & bonie lasses. --)
O Tam! hadst thou but been sae wise
As taen thy ain wife Kate's advice!
She tauld thee weel thou was a skellum,
A bletherin, blusterin, 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 every naig was ca'd a shoe on,
The Smith & thee gat roarin fou on;
That at the L--d's house even on Sunday,
Thou drank wi' Kirkton Jean till Monday. --
She, She
3.
She prophesied that, late or soon,
Thou wad be found deep drown'd in Doon;
Or catch'd wi' warlocks in the mirk
By Aloway's auld haunted kirk. ----
Ah, gentle Dames! it gars me greet,
To think how mony counsels sweet,
How mony 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' reamin swats that drank divinely;
And at his elbow, Souter Johnie,
His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony;
Tam lo'ed him like a very brither
They had been fou for weeks thegither. ----
The night drave on wi' sangs & clatter,
And ay the ale was growing better:
The
She prophesied that, late or soon,
Thou wad be found deep drown'd in Doon;
Or catch'd wi' warlocks in the mirk
By Aloway's auld haunted kirk. ----
Ah, gentle Dames! it gars me greet,
To think how mony counsels sweet,
How mony 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' reamin swats that drank divinely;
And at his elbow, Souter Johnie,
His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony;
Tam lo'ed him like a very brither
They had been fou for weeks thegither. ----
The night drave on wi' sangs & clatter,
And ay the ale was growing better:
The
4
The Landlady & Tam grew gracious,
Wi' favors, secret, sweet & precious
The Souter tauld his queerest stories;
The Landlord's laugh was ready chorus;
The storm without might rair & rustle,
Tam did na mind the storm a whistle. ---
Care, mad to see a man sae happy,
E'en drown'd himsel amang the nappy.--
As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure,
The minutes wing'd their way wi' pleasure. --
Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious;
O'er a' the ills o' life victorious!
But pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow falls in the river,
A moment white -- then melts for ever;
Or like the borealis race,
That flit ere you can point their place;
Or
;
The Landlady & Tam grew gracious,
Wi' favors, secret, sweet & precious
The Souter tauld his queerest stories;
The Landlord's laugh was ready chorus;
The storm without might rair & rustle,
Tam did na mind the storm a whistle. ---
Care, mad to see a man sae happy,
E'en drown'd himsel amang the nappy.--
As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure,
The minutes wing'd their way wi' pleasure. --
Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious;
O'er a' the ills o' life victorious!
But pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow falls in the river,
A moment white -- then melts for ever;
Or like the borealis race,
That flit ere you can point their place;
Or
;
5.
Or like the rainbow's lovely form
Evanishing amid the storm. --
Nae man can tether Time nor Tide,
The hour approaches Tam maun ride;
That hour o' night's black arch the key-stane,
That dreary hour he mounts his beast in,
And sic a night he taks the road in
As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in. ----
The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last;
The rattling showers rose on the blast;
The speedy gleams the darkness swallow'd;
Loud, deep & lang, the thunder bellow'd:
That night, a child might understand
The deil had business on his hand. --
Weel mounted on his grey meare, Meg,
A better never lifted leg,
Tam skelpit on thro' dub & mire,
Despising wind, and rain, & fire;
Whyles
Or like the rainbow's lovely form
Evanishing amid the storm. --
Nae man can tether Time nor Tide,
The hour approaches Tam maun ride;
That hour o' night's black arch the key-stane,
That dreary hour he mounts his beast in,
And sic a night he taks the road in
As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in. ----
The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last;
The rattling showers rose on the blast;
The speedy gleams the darkness swallow'd;
Loud, deep & lang, the thunder bellow'd:
That night, a child might understand
The deil had business on his hand. --
Weel mounted on his grey meare, Meg,
A better never lifted leg,
Tam skelpit on thro' dub & mire,
Despising wind, and rain, & fire;
Whyles
6.
Whyles holding fast his gude blue bonnet,
Whyles crooning o'er an auld Scots sonnet;
Whyles glowering round wi' prudent cares,
Lest bogles catch him unawares;
Kirk-Aloway was drawing nigh,
Where ghaists & houlets nightly cry. --
By this time he was cross the ford,
Where in the snaw the chapman smoor'd;
And past the birks & meikle stane,
Where drunken Charlie brak's neck-bane;
And thro' the whins & by the cairn,
Where hunters fand the murder'd bairn;
And near the thorn, aboon the well,
Where Mungo's mither hang'd hersel. --
Before him Doon pours all his floods,
The doubling storm roars ^thro' the woods,
The lightenings flash from pole to pole,
Near & more near the thunders roll,
When, glimmering thro' the groaning trees,
Kirk-Aloway seem'd in a bleeze;
Thro'
Whyles holding fast his gude blue bonnet,
Whyles crooning o'er an auld Scots sonnet;
Whyles glowering round wi' prudent cares,
Lest bogles catch him unawares;
Kirk-Aloway was drawing nigh,
Where ghaists & houlets nightly cry. --
By this time he was cross the ford,
Where in the snaw the chapman smoor'd;
And past the birks & meikle stane,
Where drunken Charlie brak's neck-bane;
And thro' the whins & by the cairn,
Where hunters fand the murder'd bairn;
And near the thorn, aboon the well,
Where Mungo's mither hang'd hersel. --
Before him Doon pours all his floods,
The doubling storm roars ^thro' the woods,
The lightenings flash from pole to pole,
Near & more near the thunders roll,
When, glimmering thro' the groaning trees,
Kirk-Aloway seem'd in a bleeze;
Thro'
7.
Thro' ilka bore the beams were glancing,
And loud resounded mirth & dancing. ----
Inspiring, bold John Barleycorn,
What dangers thou canst make us scorn!
Wi' tippenny we fear nae evil,
Wi' usquabae we'll face the devil. --
The swats sae ream'd in Tammie's noddle,
Fair play, he car'd na deils a boddle;
But Maggie stood, right sair astonish'd,
Till by the heel & hand admonish'd,
She ventur'd forward on the light,
And, wow! Tam saw an unco sight!
Warlocks & witches in a dance,
Nae cotillon brent new frae France,
But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys & reels,
Put life & mettle in their heels. --
A
Thro' ilka bore the beams were glancing,
And loud resounded mirth & dancing. ----
Inspiring, bold John Barleycorn,
What dangers thou canst make us scorn!
Wi' tippenny we fear nae evil,
Wi' usquabae we'll face the devil. --
The swats sae ream'd in Tammie's noddle,
Fair play, he car'd na deils a boddle;
But Maggie stood, right sair astonish'd,
Till by the heel & hand admonish'd,
She ventur'd forward on the light,
And, wow! Tam saw an unco sight!
Warlocks & witches in a dance,
Nae cotillon brent new frae France,
But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys & reels,
Put life & mettle in their heels. --
A
8.
A winnock-bunker in the east,
There Sat auld Nick in shape o' beast,
A towzie tyke, black, grim & large,
To gie them music was his charge:
He screw'd the pipes & gart them skirl,
Till roof & rafters a' did dirl. --
Coffins stood round, like open presses,
That shaw'd the Dead in their last dresses,
And (by some devilish cantraip 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 winnock-bunker in the east,
There Sat auld Nick in shape o' beast,
A towzie tyke, black, grim & large,
To gie them music was his charge:
He screw'd the pipes & gart them skirl,
Till roof & rafters a' did dirl. --
Coffins stood round, like open presses,
That shaw'd the Dead in their last dresses,
And (by some devilish cantraip 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;
;
9
A garter that a babe had strangled;
A knife a father's throat had mangled,
Whom his ain son of life bereft,
The gray hairs yet stack to the heft:
With mair o' horrible and awfu',
Which even to name wad be unlawfu'. --
Three Lawyer's tongues, turn'd inside out,
Wi' lies seam'd like a beggar's clout;
Three Priest's hearts, rotten, black as muck,
Lay stinkin, vile, in every neuk. ----
As Tammie glowr'd, amaz'd & curious,
The mirth & fun grew fast & furious:
The Piper loud & louder blew,
The Dancers quick & quicker flew;
They reel'd, they set, they crost, they cleekit,
Till ilka Carlin swat & reekit,
And
;
A garter that a babe had strangled;
A knife a father's throat had mangled,
Whom his ain son of life bereft,
The gray hairs yet stack to the heft:
With mair o' horrible and awfu',
Which even to name wad be unlawfu'. --
Three Lawyer's tongues, turn'd inside out,
Wi' lies seam'd like a beggar's clout;
Three Priest's hearts, rotten, black as muck,
Lay stinkin, vile, in every neuk. ----
As Tammie glowr'd, amaz'd & curious,
The mirth & fun grew fast & furious:
The Piper loud & louder blew,
The Dancers quick & quicker flew;
They reel'd, they set, they crost, they cleekit,
Till ilka Carlin swat & reekit,
And
;
10
And coost her duddies on the wark,
And linkit at it in her sark. ----
Now Tam! O Tam! had thae been queans
A' plump & strappin in their teens,
Their sarks, instead o' creeshie flainen,
Been snaw-white seventeen-hunder linen;
Their breeks o' mine, my only pair,
That ance were plush o' guid blue hair,
I wad hae gien them off my hurdies,
For ae blink o' the bonie burdies!
But wither'd beldams, auld & droll,
Rigwoodie hags wad spean a foal,
Loupin & flingin on a crummock,
I wonder did na turn thy stomach. ----
But Tam kend what was what fu' brawlie;
There was ae winsome wench & walie,
That
And coost her duddies on the wark,
And linkit at it in her sark. ----
Now Tam! O Tam! had thae been queans
A' plump & strappin in their teens,
Their sarks, instead o' creeshie flainen,
Been snaw-white seventeen-hunder linen;
Their breeks o' mine, my only pair,
That ance were plush o' guid blue hair,
I wad hae gien them off my hurdies,
For ae blink o' the bonie burdies!
But wither'd beldams, auld & droll,
Rigwoodie hags wad spean a foal,
Loupin & flingin on a crummock,
I wonder did na turn thy stomach. ----
But Tam kend what was what fu' brawlie;
There was ae winsome wench & walie,
That
11
That night enlisted in the core,
(Lang after, kend on Carrick-shore;
For mony a beast to dead she shot,
And perish'd mony a bonie boat,
And shook baith meikle corn & bear,
And kept the country-side in fear:)
Her cutty-sark, o' Paisley harn,
That while a lassie she had worn,
In longitude tho' sorely scanty,
It was her best, and she was vaunty. --
Ah, little thought thy reverend graunie,
That sark she coft for her wee Nannie
Wi' twa pund Scots ('twas a' her riches)
Should ever grac'd a dance o' witches!
But here my Muse her wing maun cour,
Sic flights are far beyond her power,
To sing, how Nannie lap & flang,
(A souple jad she was & strang)
That night enlisted in the core,
(Lang after, kend on Carrick-shore;
For mony a beast to dead she shot,
And perish'd mony a bonie boat,
And shook baith meikle corn & bear,
And kept the country-side in fear:)
Her cutty-sark, o' Paisley harn,
That while a lassie she had worn,
In longitude tho' sorely scanty,
It was her best, and she was vaunty. --
Ah, little thought thy reverend graunie,
That sark she coft for her wee Nannie
Wi' twa pund Scots ('twas a' her riches)
Should ever grac'd a dance o' witches!
But here my Muse her wing maun cour,
Sic flights are far beyond her power,
To sing, how Nannie lap & flang,
(A souple jad she was & strang)
12.
And how Tam stood like ane bewitch'd,
And thought his very een enrich'd;
Even Satan glowr'd, & fidg'd fu' fain,
And hotch'd, & blew wi' might & main:
Till first ae caper -- syne anither --
Tam tint his reason a' thegither,
And roars out -- "Weel done, Cutty-sark!"
And in an instant all was dark;
And scarcely had he Maggie rallied,
When out the hellish legion sallied. ----
As bees biz out wi' angry fyke,
When plundering herds assail their byke;
As open Pussie's mortal foes,
When, pop, she starts before their nose;
As eager rins the Market-croud
When, "Catch the thief!" resounds aloud;
So Maggie rins, the witches follow,
Wi' mony an eldritch shout & hollow. ---- Ah.
;
And how Tam stood like ane bewitch'd,
And thought his very een enrich'd;
Even Satan glowr'd, & fidg'd fu' fain,
And hotch'd, & blew wi' might & main:
Till first ae caper -- syne anither --
Tam tint his reason a' thegither,
And roars out -- "Weel done, Cutty-sark!"
And in an instant all was dark;
And scarcely had he Maggie rallied,
When out the hellish legion sallied. ----
As bees biz out wi' angry fyke,
When plundering herds assail their byke;
As open Pussie's mortal foes,
When, pop, she starts before their nose;
As eager rins the Market-croud
When, "Catch the thief!" resounds aloud;
So Maggie rins, the witches follow,
Wi' mony an eldritch shout & hollow. ---- Ah.
;
13.
Ah, Tam! Ah, Tam! thou'll get thy fairin!
In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin!
In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin!
Kate soon will be a woefu' woman!!!
Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg,
And win the key-stane o' the brig;
There, at them thou thy tail may toss;
A running stream they dare na cross!
But ere the key-stane she could make,
The fient a tail she had to shake. --
For Nannie, far before the rest,
Hard upon noble Maggie prest,
And flew at Tam wi' furious ettle,
But little wist she Maggie's mettle;
Ae spring brought off her Master hale,
But left behind her ain gray tail:
The
Ah, Tam! Ah, Tam! thou'll get thy fairin!
In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin!
In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin!
Kate soon will be a woefu' woman!!!
Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg,
And win the key-stane o' the brig;
There, at them thou thy tail may toss;
A running stream they dare na cross!
But ere the key-stane she could make,
The fient a tail she had to shake. --
For Nannie, far before the rest,
Hard upon noble Maggie prest,
And flew at Tam wi' furious ettle,
But little wist she Maggie's mettle;
Ae spring brought off her Master hale,
But left behind her ain gray tail:
The
14
The Carline claught her by the rump,
And left poor Maggie scarce a stump. ----
Now, wha this Tale o' truth shall read,
Each man & mother's son take heed:
Whene'er to Drink ye are inclin'd,
Or Cutty-Sarks run in your mind,
Think, ye may buy the joys o'er dear;
Remember Tam o' Shanter's Meare!
_____________________
The Carline claught her by the rump,
And left poor Maggie scarce a stump. ----
Now, wha this Tale o' truth shall read,
Each man & mother's son take heed:
Whene'er to Drink ye are inclin'd,
Or Cutty-Sarks run in your mind,
Think, ye may buy the joys o'er dear;
Remember Tam o' Shanter's Meare!
_____________________

Key details
- Archive number
- NTS/02/25/BRN/02/161
- Alt. number
- 3.6215.b
- Date
- November 1790
- On display
- Yes
- Creator
- Burns, Robert (Author)
Archive information
Themes
Hierarchy
-
Robert Burns, collection of poems and songs
(
a sub-fonds is a subdivision in the archival material)
- Tam o' Shanter - A Tale