Nae man can tether time or tide; The hour approaches Tam maun ride: That hour, o' night's black arch the keystane, That dreary hour he mounts his beast in: And sic a night he tak's the road in, As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in. The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last; The rattlin' 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 de'il had business on his hand. Weel mounted on his gray mare Meg (A better never lifted leg), Tam skelpit[64] on through dub and mire, Despising wind, and rain, and fire; Whiles holding fast his guid blue bonnet, Whiles crooning o'er some auld Scots sonnet, Whiles glow'ring round wi' prudent cares, Lest bogles[65] catch him unawares; Kirk-Alloway was drawing nigh, Whaur ghaists and houlets[66] nightly cry. By this time he was 'cross the ford, Whaur in the snaw the chapman smoored;[67] And past the birks and meikle stane, Whaur drunken Charlie brak's neck-bane; And through the whins, and by the cairn, Whaur hunters fand the murdered bairn; And near the thorn, aboon the well, Whaur Mungo's mither hanged hersel'. Before him Doon pours all his floods; The doubling storm roars through the woods; The lightnings flash from pole to pole; Near and more near the thunders roll; When, glimmering through the groaning trees, Kirk-Alloway seemed in a bleeze; Through ilka bore[68] the beams were glancing; And loud resounded mirth and dancing.