5
Hard luck, alack! that the poor simple lad,
Wha ne'er was harsh to owther man er beast,
And wadnae hurt the very de'il himsel',
Wi' guests should be disturbed.—
The auld dore
Risp'd on its rusty bands. Poor Gibby glowr'd:
Bawty set up a lang and fearsome howl,
An' cour'd aneath the bed; whan, strange to tell!
The fire faughts glanc't sae clear around the room,
Ye might hac gather'd prins: the thinner rair't;
An' wi' an elritch skirl, a fell like sight,
Wi' blude a barken'd, gousty stauk'd alang,
Steer'd up the ingle, ga'e a lang how grane,
An' shook its bloody pow; and thrice it pass'd,
Wi' slaw and heavy stap, by Gibby's bed,
Wha near-hand swarf'd, and scarce cou'd thole the fright.
At length the ghaist the awfu' silence brake;
"Sax tow-monds syne, benightet here like thee,
"Fremit far frae hame, (my hame to see nae mair!)
"Wi gear weel laden, a my ain, dear won:
"O'er dear, alack! The best craft's honesty:
"I wanted to be rich ; let. Knaves tak' tent:
"For when I bless't mysel', and had it snug,
"Mark how it endet. In that vera bed
"I laid my weary limbs, when my base host
"In dead o' night came on me, nae ill dreadin',
"Reav't me of a'; and that nane e'er might ken't,
"He wi' a muckle rung dang out my harns.
"Dy'e see that ugly gash!— But be'na fear't:
