Ah! little kent thy reverend grannie
That sark she coft for her wee Nannie bought
Wi' twa pund Scots ('twas a' her riches) pounds
Wad ever grac'd a dance of witches!
But here my muse her wing maun cour; stoop
Sic flights are far beyond her pow'r—
To sing how Nannie lap and flang, leapt, kicked
(A souple jade she was, and strang);
And how Tam stood, like ane bewitch'd,
And thought his very een enrich'd;