O Tam! hadst thou but been sae wise
  As ta’en thy ain wife Kate’s advice! 
  She tauld thee weel thou wast a skellum,[159]
  A blethering,[160] blustering, drunken blellum;[161]
  That frae November till October,
  Ae market-day thou wasna sober;
  That ilka melder,[162] wi’ the miller,
  Thou sat as lang as thou had siller;
  That every naig was ca’d[163] a shoe on,
  The smith and thee gat roaring fou on;
  That at the Lord’s house, even on Sunday,
  Thou drank wi’ Kirten Jean till Monday. 
  She prophesy’d that, late or soon,
  Thou would be found deep drowned in Doon,
  Or catch’d wi’ warlocks in the mirk,
  By Alloway’s auld haunted kirk. 
    Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet,[164]
  To think how monie counsels sweet,
  How monie lengthened, sage advices
  The husband frae the wife despises! . . 
    Nae man can tether time or tide;
  The hour approaches Tam maun[165] ride;
  That hour, o’ night’s black arch the key-stane,
  That dreary hour he mounts his beast in;
  And sic[166] 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 swallowed;
  Loud, deep, and lang the thunder bellowed: 
  That night, a child might understand,
  The Deil had business on his hand.

(Mounted on his gray mare Maggie, Tarn pursues his homeward way in safety till, reaching Kirk-Alloway, he sees the windows in a blaze, and, looking in, beholds a dance of witches, with Old Nick playing the fiddle.  Most of the witches are any thing but inviting, but there is one winsome wench, called Nannie, who dances in a “cutty-sark,” or short smock.)

    But here my muse her wing maun cower;
  Sic flights are far beyond her power;
  To sing how Nannie lap and flang[167]
  (A souple jade she was, and strang),
  And how Tam stood like are bewitched,
  And thought his very e’en enriched. 
  Even Satan glowered and fidged fu’ fain,[168]
  And hotch’d[169] and blew wi’ might and main;
  Till first ae caper, syne[170] anither,
  Tam tint[171] 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 bizz out wi’ angry fyke,[172]
  When plundering herds assail their byke;[173]
  As open pussie’s mortal foes,
  When, pop! she starts before their nose;
  As eager runs the market-crowd
  When “Catch the thief!” resounds aloud. 
  So Maggie runs, the witches follow
  Wi’ monie an eldritch skreech and hollow,
    Ah, Tam! ah, Tam! thou’ll get thy fairin’![174]
  In hell they’ll roast thee like a herrin’! 
  In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin’: 
  Kate soon will be a woefu’ woman.