MS: 'Tam o'Shanter - A Tale'

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MS: 'Tam o'Shanter - A Tale'

11

That night enlisted in the core,
(Lang after, kend on Carrick-shore;
For mony a beast to dead she shot,
And perish'd mony a bonie boat,
And shook baith meikle corn & 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 vaunty. --
Ah, little thought thy reverend graunie,
That sark she coft for her wee Nannie
Wi' twa pund Scots ('twas a' her riches)
Should ever grac'd a dance o' witches!

But here my Muse her wing maun cour,
Sic flights are far beyond her power,
To sing, how Nannie lap & flang,
(A souple jad she was & strang)

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