'Tam O' Shanter' by Robert Burns


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A Tale
"Of Brownyis and of Bogillis full is this Buke."
Gawin Douglas.

When chapman billies leave the street,
And drouthy neibors neibors meet;
As market days are wearing late,
And folk begin to tak the gate,
While we sit bousing at the nappy,
An' getting fou and unco happy,
We think na on the lang Scots miles,
The mosses, waters, slaps and stiles,
That lie between us and our hame,
Where sits our sulky, sullen dame,
Gathering her brows like gathering storm,
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

This truth fand honest Tam o' Shanter,
As he frae Ayr ae night did canter:
(Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses,
For honest men and bonie lasses).

O Tam! had'st thou but been sae wise,
As taen thy ain wife Kate's advice!
She tauld thee weel thou was a skellum,
A blethering, blustering, drunken blellum;
That frae November till October,
Ae market-day thou was na sober;
That ilka melder wi' the Miller,
Thou sat as lang as thou had siller;
That ev'ry naig was ca'd a shoe on
The Smith and thee gat roarin fou on;
That at the Lord's house, ev'n on Sunday,
Thou drank wi' Kirkton Jean till Monday;
She prophesied that late or soon,
Thou wad be found, deep drown'd in Doon,
Or catch'd wi' warlocks in the mirk,
By Alloway's auld, haunted kirk.

Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet,
To think how mony counsels sweet,
How mony lengthen'd, sage advices,
The husband frae the wife despises!

But to our tale: - Ae market night,
Tam had got planted unco right,
Fast by the ingle, bleezing finely,
Wi' reaming swats that drank divinely;
And at his elbow, Souter Johnie,
His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony:
Tam lo'ed him like a very brither;
They had been fou for weeks thegither.
The night drave on wi' sangs an' clatter;
And aye the ale was growing better:
The Landlady and Tam grew gracious,
Wi' favours secret, sweet and precious:
The Souter tauld his queerest stories;
The Landlord's laugh was ready chorus:
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 drown'd himsel amang the nappy.
As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure,
The minutes wing'd 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 flow'r, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow falls in the river,
A moment white - then melts for ever;
Or like the Borealis race,
That flit ere you can point their place;
Or like the Rainbow's lovely form
Evanishing amid the storm. -

Nae man can tecther Time nor Tide,
The hour approaches Tam maun ride;
That hour, o' night's black arch the key-stane,
That dreary hour he mounts his beast in;
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 swallow'd;
Loud, deep, and lang the thunder bellow'd:
That night, a child might understand,
The deil had business on his hand.

Weel-mounted on his grey mare Meg,
A better never leg,
Tam skelpit on thro' dub and mire,
Despising wind, and rain, and fire;
Whiles holding fast his gude blue bonnett,
Whiles crooning o'er some auld Scots sonnet,
Whiles glow'rin round wi' prudent cares,
Lest bogles catch him unawares;
Kirk-Alloway was drawing nigh,
Where ghaists and houlets nightly cry.

By this time he was cross the ford,
Where in the snaw the chapman smoor'd;
And past the birks and meikle stane,
Where drunken Charlie brak's neck-bane;
And thro' the whins, and by the cairn,
Where hunters fand the murder'd bairn;
And near the thorn, aboon the well,
Where Mungo's mither hang'd hersel'.
Before him Doon pours all his floods,
The doubling storm roars thro' the woods,
The lightnings flash from pole to pole,
Near and more near the thunders roll,
When, glimmering thro' the groaning trees,
Kirk-Alloway seem'd in a bleeze,
Thro' ilka bore the beams were glancing,
And loud resounded mirth and dancing.

Inspiring bold John Barleycorn!
What dangers thou canst make us scorn!
Wi' tippeny, we fear nae evil;
Wi' usquabae, we'll face the devil!
The swats sae ream'd in Tammie's noddle,
Fair play, he car'd na deils a boddle,
But Maggie stood, right sair astonish'd,
Till, by the heel and hand admonish'd,
She ventur'd forward on the light;
And wow! Tam saw an unco sight!

Warlocks and witches in a dance:
Nae cotillon, brent new frae France,
But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels,
Put life and mettle in their heels.
A winnock-bunker in the east,
There sat auld Nick, in shape o' beast;
A tousie tyke, black, grim, and large,
To gie them music was his charge.
He screw'd the pipes and gart them skirl,
Till roof and rafters a' did dirl. -
Coffins stood round, like open presses,
That shaw'd the Dead in their last dresses;
And (by some devilish cantraip sleight)
Each in its cauld hand held a light.
By which heroic Tam was able
To note upon the haly table,
A murderer's banes, in gibbet-airns;
Twa span-lang, wee, unchristened bairns;
A thief, new-cutted frae a rape,
Wi' his last gasp his gab did gape;
Five tomahawks, wi' blude red-rusted:
Five scimitars, wi' murder crusted;
A garter which a babe had strangled:
A knife, a father's throat had mangled,
Whom his ain son of life bereft,
The grey hairs yet stack to the heft;
Wi' mair of horrible and awfu',
Which even to name was be unlawfu'.

As Tammie glowr'd, amaz'd, and curious,
The mirth and fun grew fast and furious;
The Piper loud and louder blew,
The dancers quick and quicker flew,
They reel'd, they set, they cross'd, they cleekit,
Till ilka carlin swat and reekit,
And coost her duddies to the wark,
And linkit at it in her sark!

Now Tam, O Tam! had they been queans,
A' plump and strapping in their teens!
Their sarks, instead o' creeshie flainen,
Been snaw-white seventeen-hunder linen! -
Thir breeks o' mine, my only pair,
That aince were plush, o' guid blue hair,
I wud hae gien them off my hurdies,
For ae blink o' the bonie burdies!
But wither'd beldams, auld and droll,
Rigwoodie hags wad spean a foal,
Louping an' flinging on a crummock,
I wonder did na turn thy stomach.

But Tam kent what was what fu' brawlie:
There was ae winsome wench and waulie
That night enlisted in the core,
Lang after ken'd on Carrick shore
(For mony a beast to dead she shot,
And perish'd mony a bonie boat,
And shook baith meikle corn and bear,
And kept the country-side in fear);
Her cutty sark, o' Paisley harn,
That while a lassie she had worn,
In longitude tho' sorely scanty,
It was her best, and she was vauntie.
Ah! little ken'd thy reverend grannie,
That sark she coft for her wee Nannie,
Wi' twa pund Scots ('twas a' her riches),
Wad ever grac'd a dance of witches!

But here my Muse her wing maun cour,
Sic flights are far beyond her power;
To sing how Nannie lap and flang
(A souple jade she was and strang),
And how Tam stood, like ane bewitch'd,
And thought his very een enrich'd:
Even Satan glowr'd, and fidg'd fu' fain,
And hotch'd and blew wi' might and main:
Till first ae caper, syne anither,
Tam tint his reason a' thegither,
And roars out, "Weel done, Cutty-sark!"
And in an instant all was dark:
And scarcely had he Maggie rallied,
When out the hellish legion sallied.

As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke,
When plundering herds assail their byke;
As open pussie's mortal foes,
When, pop! she starts before their nose;
As eager runs the market-crowd,
When "Catch the thief!" resounds aloud;
So Maggie runs, the witches follow,
Wi' mony an eldritch skreich and hollo.

Ah, Tam! Ah, Tam! thou'll get thy fairin!
In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin!
In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin!
Kate soon will be a woefu' woman!
Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg,
And win the key-stane o' the brig;
There, at them thou thy tail may toss,
A running stream they dare ne cross.
But ere the key-stane she could make,
The fient a tail she had to shake!
For Nannie, far before the rest,
Hard upon noble Maggie prest,
And flew at Tam wi' furious ettle;
But little wist she Maggie's mettle!
Ae spring brought off her master hale,
But left behind her ain grey tale:
The carlin claught her by the rump,
And left poor Maggie scarce a stump.

Now, wha this tale o' truth shall read,
Ilk man, and mother's son, take heed:
Whene'er to Drink you are inclin'd,
Or Cutty-sarks rin in your mind,
Think ye may buy the joys o'er dear;
Remember Tam o' Shanter's mare.

Editor 1 Interpretation

Tam O'Shanter: A Literary Criticism

Oh boy, am I excited to dive into the world of Robert Burns' Tam O'Shanter. This classic poem has captivated readers for centuries with its vivid imagery and use of Scots dialect. So, let's strap on our boots and journey into the world of Tam O'Shanter.

The Plot

First things first, let's break down the plot of the poem. Tam O'Shanter, a farmer and notorious drinker, decides to go to the pub one night despite his wife's warnings. On his way home, he passes by a church where a group of witches are gathered for their Sabbath. Tam is entranced by the sight and watches as they dance and sing. However, he is spotted by one of the witches' leaders, Nannie, who chases him on his horse, Meg. Tam manages to escape by crossing a nearby river, but Meg loses her tail in the process. The poem ends with Tam reflecting on his wild night and the dangers he faced.

The Use of Scots Dialect

One of the most striking features of Tam O'Shanter is Burns' use of Scots dialect. It adds a layer of authenticity to the poem and helps to transport readers to the Scottish countryside. However, it can also be a bit daunting for readers who are not familiar with the language. But fear not, because the use of Scots dialect is not just for show.

Burns uses Scots dialect to give voice to the common people of Scotland. Tam O'Shanter is not a poem for the elite or upper classes, but for the everyday person. It is a poem that celebrates the culture and language of Scotland, and by using Scots dialect, Burns is able to capture the spirit of his homeland.

The Theme of Temptation

Another major theme in Tam O'Shanter is temptation. Tam is tempted to go to the pub despite his wife's warnings, and he is then tempted by the sight of the witches' Sabbath. The poem shows how easy it is to be led astray by temptation and how our desires can often override our better judgment.

But the poem also shows the consequences of giving in to temptation. Tam is chased by the witches and narrowly escapes with his life. He also loses his horse's tail in the process, which is a symbol of his recklessness and disregard for his own safety.

The Power of Imagination

Tam O'Shanter also explores the power of the imagination. Tam is able to imagine the witches' Sabbath so vividly that he is able to see it with his own eyes. This shows how our minds can create powerful images that can transport us to different places and times.

But the poem also shows the dangers of the imagination. Tam's imagination leads him to a dangerous situation, and it is only by luck that he is able to escape unscathed.

The Role of Women

Finally, Tam O'Shanter also touches on the role of women in society. Tam's wife is portrayed as a nag and a killjoy, warning him not to go to the pub and reminding him of his responsibilities as a husband and father. Meanwhile, the witches are portrayed as wild and untamed, representing the opposite of the traditional feminine ideal.

However, the poem also shows the power of women. Nannie, the leader of the witches, is able to chase Tam on horseback and almost catch him. This shows that women are not to be underestimated and can be just as powerful and capable as men.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Tam O'Shanter is a poem that explores a variety of themes, from temptation to the power of imagination. It celebrates the culture and language of Scotland and gives voice to the common people. It is a poem that has stood the test of time, captivating readers for centuries with its vivid imagery and use of Scots dialect. So, if you haven't already, grab a copy of Tam O'Shanter and immerse yourself in the world of Robert Burns. You won't regret it.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

Tam O'Shanter: A Classic Poem by Robert Burns

Tam O'Shanter is one of the most famous poems written by Robert Burns, a Scottish poet who lived in the 18th century. The poem tells the story of Tam, a farmer who loves to drink and have fun with his friends. One night, Tam decides to go to the local pub, despite his wife's warnings about the dangers of the supernatural world. As he rides home on his horse, he sees a group of witches dancing in a field. Tam is fascinated by the witches and watches them for a while, but when they notice him, he is forced to flee for his life. The poem is a masterpiece of Scottish literature, and it has been studied and analyzed by scholars for centuries.

The poem is written in Scots, a dialect of English that is spoken in Scotland. The language is rich and colorful, and it adds to the poem's charm and authenticity. The poem is also full of vivid imagery and symbolism, which make it a joy to read and analyze.

The poem begins with a description of Tam, who is a "drunken sot" and a "rascal". He is a man who loves to drink and have fun, and he is not afraid of anything. Tam's wife, on the other hand, is a more sensible person who is worried about the dangers of the supernatural world. She warns Tam not to go out at night, but he ignores her and goes to the local pub anyway.

As Tam rides home on his horse, he sees a group of witches dancing in a field. The witches are described in vivid detail, with their "kirtles green" and "cutty sarks". They are a frightening sight, and Tam is both fascinated and terrified by them. He watches them for a while, but when they notice him, he is forced to flee for his life.

The scene is full of symbolism and imagery. The witches represent the supernatural world, which is both fascinating and terrifying. Tam's fascination with the witches represents his desire for adventure and excitement, while his fear represents his awareness of the dangers that lurk in the supernatural world.

The poem also contains a number of literary devices, such as alliteration, rhyme, and repetition. For example, the line "But pleasures are like poppies spread" contains alliteration, while the line "The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last" contains repetition. These devices add to the poem's musicality and make it a joy to read aloud.

The poem's structure is also interesting. It is written in six-line stanzas, with a rhyme scheme of AAABAB. This structure gives the poem a sense of rhythm and balance, and it makes it easy to remember.

One of the most interesting aspects of the poem is its use of dialect. Burns wrote in Scots, which was not a widely spoken language at the time. By using Scots, Burns was able to capture the essence of Scottish culture and language, and he was able to create a poem that was uniquely Scottish. The use of dialect also adds to the poem's authenticity and makes it more accessible to Scottish readers.

Overall, Tam O'Shanter is a masterpiece of Scottish literature. It is a poem that is full of vivid imagery, symbolism, and literary devices. It captures the essence of Scottish culture and language, and it is a joy to read and analyze. If you have not read Tam O'Shanter before, I highly recommend it. It is a classic poem that has stood the test of time, and it is a testament to the genius of Robert Burns.

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