Wi’ mony an eldritch skreech and hollow,
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 waefu’ 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 na cross;
But ere the key-stane she could make,