And now the turnpike gates again Flew open in short space; The toll-men thinking as before, That Gilpin rode a race. And so he did, and won it too, 245 For he got first to town; Nor stopp'd till where he had got up He did again get down. Now let us sing, "Long live the king, And Gilpin, long live he;" 250 And when he next doth ride abroad, May I be there to see! ROBERT BURNS TAM O' SHANTER "Of brownyis and of bogilis full is this buke." GAWIN DOUGLAS. A TALE When chapman billies[14] leave the street, And drouty[15] neebors, neebors meet, As market-days are wearing late, And folk begin to tak the gate[16]; While we sit bousing at the nappy,[17] 5 And gettin' fou[18] and unco[19] happy, We think na on the lang Scots miles. The mosses, waters, slaps[20] and styles, That lie between us and our hame, Where sits our sulky sullen dame, 10 Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. This truth fand honest Tam o' Shanter, As he frae[21] Ayr[22] ae night did canter, (Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses 15 For honest men and bonny lasses.) 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,[23] A blethering,[24] blustering, drunken blellum[25]; 20 That frae November till October, Ae market-day thou wasna sober; That ilka[26] melder,[27] wi' the miller, Thou sat as lang as thou had siller; That every naig was ca'd[28] a shoe on, 25 The smith and thee gat roaring fou on; That at the Lord's house, even on Sunday, Thou drank wi' Kirkton Jean till Monday. She prophesied that, late or soon, Thou would be found deep drowned in Doon,[29] 30 Or catched wi' warlocks[30] in the mirk,[31] By Alloway's[32] auld haunted kirk.[33] Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet,[34] To think how monie counsels sweet, How monie lengthened sage advices, 35 The husband frae the wife despises!