The Canongate Burns. Robert Burns

Spairges about the brunstane cootie, splashes, brimstone dish

      To scaud poor wretches! scald

      Hear me, auld Hangie, for a wee, old hangman, while

      An’ let poor damnèd bodies be;

      I’m sure sma’ pleasure it can gie, give

      10 Ev’n to a deil, devil

      To skelp an’ scaud poor dogs like me hit/slap, scald

      An’ hear us squeel!

      Great is thy pow’r an’ great thy fame;

      Far kend, an’ noted is thy name; known

      15 An’ tho’ yon lowan heugh’s thy hame, moaning, hollow, home

      Thou travels far;

      An’ faith! thou’s neither lag, nor lame, backward

      Nor blate nor scaur. bashful, afraid

      Whyles, ranging like a roarin lion, sometimes

      20 For prey, a’ holes an’ corners tryin;

      Whyles, on the strong-wing’d Tempest flyin,

      Tirlan the Kirks; stripping – attacking

      Whyles, in the human bosom pryin,

      Unseen thou lurks.

      25 I’ve heard my rev’rend Graunie say, grannie

      In lanely glens ye like to stray; lonely

      Or, where auld ruin’d castles grey old

      Nod to the moon,

      Ye fright the nightly wand’rer’s way

      30 Wi’ eldritch croon. unearthly eerie moan

      When twilight did my Graunie summon, grannie

      To say her pray’rs, douce, honest woman! sober/prudent

      Aft yont the dyke she’s heard you bumman, away beyond

      Wi’ eerie drone;

      35 Or, rustlin, thro’ the boortries coman, alder trees coming

      Wi’ heavy groan.

      Ae dreary, windy, winter night, one

      The stars shot down wi’ sklentan light, slanting

      Wi’ you mysel, I gat a fright: got

      40 Ayont the lough, beyond, loch

      Ye, like a rash-buss, stood in sight, bunch of rushes

      Wi’ waving sugh: moan

      The cudgel in my nieve did shake, fist

      Each bristl’d hair stood like a stake;

      45 When wi’ an eldritch, stoor quaick, quaick, unearthly harsh, duck quack

      Amang the springs, among

      Awa ye squatter’d like a drake, away, a noisy take-off

      On whistling wings.

      Let Warlocks grim, an’ wither’d Hags,

      50 Tell how wi’ you, on ragweed nags, ragwort

      They skim the muirs an’ dizzy crags, moors, high peaks

      Wi’ wicked speed;

      And in kirk-yards renew their leagues,

      Owre howket dead. over those raised from the grave

      55 Thence, countra wives, wi’ toil an’ pain, country

      May plunge an’ plunge the kirn in vain; churn

      For Och! the yellow treasure’s taen taken

      By witching skill;

      An’ dawtit, twal-pint Hawkie’s gaen petted, 12-pint cow has gone

      60 As yell’s the Bill. dry, bull

      Thence, mystic knots mak great abuse

      On Young-Guidmen, fond, keen an’ croose; husbands, over confident

      When the best warklum i’ the house, work-tool, penis

      By cantraip wit, magic/evil

      65 Is instant made no worth a louse,

      Just at the bit. stopped before ejaculation

      When thowes dissolve the snawy hoord, thawes, snowy hoard

      An’ float the jinglin icy boord, water’s surface

      Then, Water-kelpies haunt the foord, imaginary water-spirits, ford

      70 By your direction,

      An’ nighted Trav’llers are allur’d

      To their destruction.

      An’ aft your moss-traversing Spunkies often, bog-, demons

      Decoy the wight that late an’ drunk is: fellow

      75 The bleezan, curst, mischievous monkies

      Delude his eyes,

      Till in some miry slough he sunk is, dirty hole

      Ne’er mair to rise. more

      When MASONS’ mystic word an’ grip

      80 In storms an’ tempests raise you up,

      Some cock or cat your rage maun stop, shall

      Or, strange to tell!

      The youngest Brother ye wad whip would

      Aff straught to Hell. off straight

      85 Lang syne in Eden’s bonie yard, long ago

      When youthfu’ lovers first were pair’d,

      An’ all the Soul of Love they shar’d,

      The raptur’d hour,

      Sweet on the fragrant flow’ry swaird, grassy edge

      90 In shady bow’r:

      Then you, ye auld, snick-drawing dog! old, sly door opener

      Ye cam to Paradise incog, came, disguised

      An’ play’d on man a cursed brogue trick

      (Black be your fa’!), fall

      95 An’ gied the infant warld a shog, gave, world, shake

      ’Maist ruin’d a’. almost

      D’ye mind that day when in a bizz flurry/bustle

      Wi’ reeket duds, an’ reestet gizz, smoky clothes, scorched wig

      Ye did present your smoutie phiz smutty face

      100 ’Mang better folk;

      An’ sklented on the man of Uzz squinted at Job

      Your spitefu’ joke?

      An’ how ye gat him i’ your thrall, got, spell

      An’ brak him out o’ house an’ hal’, broke

      105 While scabs an’ blotches did him gall,

      Wi’ bitter claw;

      An’ lows’d his ill-tongu’d wicked Scawl — slackened, scolding wife

      Was warst ava? worst of all

      But a’ your doings to rehearse,

      110 Your wily snares an’ fechtin fierce, fighting

      Sin’ that day MICHAEL did you pierce

      Down to this time,

      Wad ding