He rade in the black storm on high in the air,
Leading whirlwinds onward o’er valley an’ hill,
Working mischief an’ ruin to gude and to ill.
When Tam saw a priest he grew wild as a stirk,
And never wad enter the door o’ a kirk:
If ony are near him attempted to pray,
In a moment Tam Giffen wad vanish away;
If ony by chance ever mentioned his name,
Soon, soon to their terror and wonder he came,
An’ speired what they wanted by calling him there,