But to our tale:--Ae market-night, Tam had got planted[35] unco right, Fast by an ingle,[36] bleezing finely, Wi' reaming swats,[37] that drank divinely; 40 And at his elbow, Souter[38] Johnny, His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony; Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither-- They had been fou for weeks thegither! The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter, 45 And aye the ale was growing better; The landlady and Tam grew gracious, Wi' favors secret, sweet, and precious; The souter tauld his queerest stories, The landlord's laugh was ready chorus; 50 The storm without might rair and rustle-- Tam did na mind the storm a whistle. Care, mad to see a man sae happy, E'en drowned himself amang the nappy! As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure, 55 The minutes winged 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; 60 Or like the snowfall in the river,-- A moment white--then melts forever; Or like the borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the rainbow's lovely form, 65 Evanishing amid the storm. Nae man can tether time or tide; The hour approaches Tam maun[39] ride: That hour, o' night's black arch the keystane, That dreary hour he mounts his beast in; 70 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 swallowed; 75 Loud, deep, and lang the thunder bellowed: That night, a child might understand, The Deil[40] had business on his hand. Weel mounted on his gray mare, Meg, (A better never lifted leg,) 80 Tam skelpit[41] on through dub[42] and mire, Despising wind, and rain, and fire; Whiles holding fast his guid blue bonnet, Whiles crooning o'er some auld Scots sonnet; Whiles glowering round wi' prudent cares, 85 Lest bogles[43] catch him unawares:-- Kirk-Alloway was drawing nigh, Where ghaists and houlets[44] nightly cry.