Tam O' Shanter. - A Tale. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A B CCDDEEFFGGGG HHIIIIGGHHHHJJKELLAA CCIIMMEEEEHHHHIIIINN EEHHII OOHHIIGGPPEEEE QQRRSS AAHHTUIIVV UUEEEEWWIIWWIIAA EEWWWWUUUUIIIIUUXXWW IIUUWWIIEEUUUUUUVV IIWWUUAA IIEEHHII WWAY WWHHUUHHEEUU EEIIHHAAUUEEHHAAUU AAIIUUWW EEEEAAIIAAUUWWWWEE UUUUHH| Of brownys and of bogilis full is this buke | A |
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| Gawin Douglas | B |
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| When chapman billies leave the street | C |
| And drouthy neebors neebors meet | C |
| As market days are wearing late | D |
| An' folk begin to tak' the gate | D |
| While we sit bousing at the nappy | E |
| An' gettin' fou and unco happy | E |
| We think na on the lang Scots miles | F |
| The mosses waters slaps and stiles | F |
| That lie between us and our hame | G |
| Where sits our sulky sullen dame | G |
| Gathering her brows like gathering storm | G |
| Nursing her wrath to keep it warm | G |
| - | |
| This truth fand honest Tam O' Shanter | H |
| As he frae Ayr ae night did canter | H |
| Auld Ayr wham ne'er a town surpasses | I |
| For honest men and bonny lasses | I |
| O Tam hadst thou but been sae wise | I |
| As ta'en thy ain wife Kate's advice | I |
| She tauld thee weel thou was a skellum | G |
| A blethering blustering drunken blellum | G |
| That frae November till October | H |
| Ae market day thou wasna sober | H |
| That ilka melder wi' the miller | H |
| Thou sat as lang as thou had siller | H |
| That ev'ry naig was ca'd a shoe on | J |
| The smith and thee gat roaring fou on | J |
| That at the Lord's house ev'n on Sunday | K |
| Thou drank wi' Kirton Jean till Monday | E |
| She prophesy'd that late or soon | L |
| Thou would be found deep drown'd in Doon | L |
| Or catch'd wi' warlocks in the mirk | A |
| By Alloway's auld haunted kirk | A |
| - | |
| Ah gentle dames it gars me greet | C |
| To think how mony counsels sweet | C |
| How mony lengthen'd sage advices | I |
| The husband frae the wife despises | I |
| But to our tale Ae market night | M |
| Tam had got planted unco right | M |
| Fast by an ingle bleezing finely | E |
| Wi' reaming swats that drank divinely | E |
| And at his elbow Souter Johnny | E |
| His ancient trusty drouthy crony | E |
| Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither | H |
| They had been fou' for weeks thegither | H |
| The night drave on wi' sangs an' clatter | H |
| And ay the ale was growing better | H |
| The landlady and Tam grew gracious | I |
| Wi' favors secret sweet and precious | I |
| The Souter tauld his queerest stories | I |
| The landlord's laugh was ready chorus | I |
| The storm without might rair and rustle | N |
| Tam did na mind the storm a whistle | N |
| - | |
| Care mad to see a man sae happy | E |
| E'en drown'd himself amang the nappy | E |
| As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure | H |
| The minutes wing'd their way wi' pleasure | H |
| Kings may be blest but Tam was glorious | I |
| O'er a' the ills o' life victorious | I |
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| But pleasures are like poppies spread | O |
| You seize the flow'r its bloom is shed | O |
| Or like the snow falls in the river | H |
| A moment white then melts for ever | H |
| Or like the borealis race | I |
| That flit ere you can point their place | I |
| Or like the rainbow's lovely form | G |
| Evanishing amid the storm | G |
| Nae man can tether time or tide | P |
| The hour approaches Tam maun ride | P |
| That hour o' night's black arch the key stane | E |
| That dreary hour he mounts his beast in | E |
| And sic a night he taks the road in | E |
| As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in | E |
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| The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last | Q |
| The rattling show'rs rose on the blast | Q |
| The speedy gleams the darkness swallow'd | R |
| Loud deep and lang the thunder bellow'd | R |
| That night a child might understand | S |
| The de'il had business on his hand | S |
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| Weel mounted on his gray mare Meg | A |
| A better never lifted leg | A |
| Tam skelpit on thro' dub and mire | H |
| Despising wind and rain and fire | H |
| Whiles holding fast his guid blue bonnet | T |
| Whiles crooning o'er some auld Scots sonnet | U |
| Whiles glow'ring round wi' prudent cares | I |
| Lest bogles catch him unawares | I |
| Kirk Alloway was drawing nigh | V |
| Whare ghaists and houlets nightly cry | V |
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| By this time he was cross the foord | U |
| Whare in the snaw the chapman smoor'd | U |
| And past the birks and meikle stane | E |
| Where drunken Charlie brak's neck bane | E |
| And thro' the whins and by the cairn | E |
| Where hunters fand the murder'd bairn | E |
| And near the thorn aboon the well | W |
| Where Mungo's mither hang'd hersel' | W |
| Before him Doon pours all his floods | I |
| The doubling storm roars thro' the woods | I |
| The lightnings flash from pole to pole | W |
| Near and more the thunders roll | W |
| When glimmering thro' the groaning trees | I |
| Kirk Alloway seem'd in a bleeze | I |
| Thro' ilka bore the beams were glancing | A |
| And loud resounded mirth and dancing | A |
| - | |
| Inspiring bold John Barleycorn | E |
| What dangers thou canst make us scorn | E |
| Wi' tippenny we fear nae evil | W |
| Wi' usquabae we'll face the devil | W |
| The swats sae ream'd in Tammie's noddle | W |
| Fair play he car'd nae deils a boddle | W |
| But Maggie stood right sair astonish'd | U |
| 'Till by the heel and hand admonish'd | U |
| She ventur'd forward on the light | U |
| And wow Tam saw an unco sight | U |
| Warlocks and witches in a dance | I |
| Nae cotillion brent new frae France | I |
| But hornpipes jigs strathspeys and reels | I |
| Put life and mettle in their heels | I |
| A winnock bunker in the east | U |
| There sat auld Nick in shape o' beast | U |
| A towzie tyke black grim and large | X |
| To gie them music was his charge | X |
| He screw'd the pipes and gart them skirl | W |
| Till roof and rafters a' did dirl | W |
| Coffins stood round like open presses | I |
| That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses | I |
| And by some devilish cantrip slight | U |
| Each in its cauld hand held a light | U |
| By which heroic Tam was able | W |
| To note upon the haly table | W |
| A murderer's banes in gibbet airns | I |
| Twa span lang wee unchristen'd bairns | I |
| A thief new cutted frae a rape | E |
| Wi' his last gasp his gab did gape | E |
| Five tomahawks wi' bluid red rusted | U |
| Five scimitars wi' murder crusted | U |
| A garter which a babe had strangled | U |
| A knife a father's throat had mangled | U |
| Whom his ain son o' life bereft | U |
| The gray hairs yet stack to the heft | U |
| Wi' mair o' horrible and awfu' | V |
| Which ev'n to name would be unlawfu' | V |
| - | |
| As Tammie glowr'd amaz'd and curious | I |
| The mirth and fun grew fast and furious | I |
| The piper loud and louder blew | W |
| The dancers quick and quicker flew | W |
| They reel'd they set they cross'd they cleekit | U |
| 'Till ilka carlin swat and reekit | U |
| And coost her duddies to the wark | A |
| And linket at it in her sark | A |
| - | |
| Now Tam O Tam had thae been queans | I |
| A' plump and strapping in their teens | I |
| Their sarks instead o' creeshie flannen | E |
| Been snaw white seventeen hunder linen | E |
| Thir breeks o' mine my only pair | H |
| That ance were plush o' guid blue hair | H |
| I wad hae gi'en them off my hurdies | I |
| For ae blink o' the bonnie burdies | I |
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| But wither'd beldams auld and droll | W |
| Rigwoodie hags wad spean a foal | W |
| Lowping an' flinging on a cummock | A |
| I wonder didna turn thy stomach | Y |
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| But Tam kenn'd what was what fu' brawlie | W |
| There was a winsome wench and walie | W |
| That night enlisted in the core | H |
| Lang after kenn'd on Carrick shore | H |
| For mony a beast to dead she shot | U |
| And perish'd mony a bonnie boat | U |
| And shook baith meikle corn and bear | H |
| And kept the country side in fear | H |
| Her cutty sark o' Paisley harn | E |
| That while a lassie she had worn | E |
| In longitude tho' sorely scanty | U |
| It was her best and she was vauntie | U |
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| Ah little kenn'd the reverend grannie | E |
| That sark she coft for her wee Nannie | E |
| Wi' twa pund Scots 'twas a' her riches | I |
| Wad ever grac'd a dance of witches | I |
| But here my muse her wing maun cour | H |
| Sic flights are far beyond her pow'r | H |
| To sing how Nannie lap and flang | A |
| A souple jade she was and strung | A |
| And how Tam stood like ane bewitch'd | U |
| And thought his very een enrich'd | U |
| Even Satan glowr'd and fidg'd fu' fain | E |
| And hotch'd and blew wi' might and main | E |
| 'Till first ae caper syne anither | H |
| Tam tint his reason a' thegither | H |
| And roars out Weel done Cutty sark | A |
| And in an instant all was dark | A |
| And scarcely had he Maggie rallied | U |
| When out the hellish legion sallied | U |
| - | |
| As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke | A |
| When plundering herds assail their byke | A |
| As open pussie's mortal foes | I |
| When pop she starts before their nose | I |
| As eager runs the market crowd | U |
| When Catch the thief resounds aloud | U |
| So Maggie runs the witches follow | W |
| Wi' mony an eldritch screech and hollow | W |
| - | |
| Ah Tam Ah Tam thou'll get thy fairin' | E |
| In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin' | E |
| In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin' | E |
| Kate soon will be a woefu' woman | E |
| Now do thy speedy utmost Meg | A |
| And win the key stane of the brig | A |
| There at them thou thy tail may toss | I |
| A running stream they darena cross | I |
| But ere the key stane she could make | A |
| The fient a tail she had to shake | A |
| For Nannie far before the rest | U |
| Hard upon noble Maggie prest | U |
| And flew at Tam wi' furious ettle | W |
| But little wist she Maggie's mettle | W |
| Ae spring brought off her master hale | W |
| But left behind her ain gray tail | W |
| The carlin claught her by the rump | E |
| And left poor Maggie scarce a stump | E |
| - | |
| Now wha this tale o' truth shall read | U |
| Ilk man and mother's son take heed | U |
| Whene'er to drink you are inclin'd | U |
| Or cutty sarks run in your mind | U |
| Think ye may buy the joys o'er dear | H |
| Remember Tam O' Shanter's mare | H |
Robert Burns
(1)
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About Tam O' Shanter. - A Tale.
Tam O' Shanter. - A Tale. is a poem by Robert Burns. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
