The International library of famous literature, selections from the world's great writers, ancient, mediaeval, and modern with biographical and explanatory notes and critical essays by many eminent writers . ife, a fathers throat had his ain son o life gray hairs yet stack to the heft;Wi mair o horrible and awfu,Which evn to name wad be unlawfu. As Tammie glowred, amazed and mirth and fun grew fast and furious:The piper loud and louder blew;The dancers quick and quicker flew;They reeled, they set, they crossed, they cleekit,Till ilka carlin swat and
The International library of famous literature, selections from the world's great writers, ancient, mediaeval, and modern with biographical and explanatory notes and critical essays by many eminent writers . ife, a fathers throat had his ain son o life gray hairs yet stack to the heft;Wi mair o horrible and awfu,Which evn to name wad be unlawfu. As Tammie glowred, amazed and mirth and fun grew fast and furious:The piper loud and louder blew;The dancers quick and quicker flew;They reeled, they set, they crossed, they cleekit,Till ilka carlin swat and coost her duddies to the linket at it in her sark ! Now Tam, 0 Tarn! had thae been queans,A plump and strapping in their teens;Their sarks, instead o creeshie snaw-white seventeen hunder linnen!Thir breeks o mine, my only pair,That ance were plush, o gude blue hair,I wad hae gien them off my Inirdics,For ae blink o the bonie burdies! But withered beldams, auld and droll,Rigwooddie hags wad spean a foal,Lowping and flinging on a crummock,I wonder didna turn thy stomach. l^ut Tam kend what was what fu brawlie,There was ae winsome wench and walie,That night enlisted in the core,. rt ^^ H TAM o* shantp:r. 5615 (Lang after kend on Carrick shore;For mony a beast to dead she shot,And perished mony a bonie boat,And shook baith meikle corn and bear,And kept the country side in fear,)Her cutty sark, o Paisley while a lassie she had worn,In longitude tho sorely scanty,It was her best, and she was vauntie. —Ah! little kend thy reverend sark she coft for her wee Nannie,Wi twa pund Scots (twas a her riches).Wad ever graced a dance of witches! But here my muse her wing maun cour jSic flights are far beyond her power;To sing how Nannie lap and flang,(A souple jade she was, and Strang,)And how Tarn stood, like ane thought his very een enriched;Even Satan glowred, and fidged fu botched and blew wi might and main:Till first
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