a very brither;
they had been fou for weeks thegither.
the night drave on wi' sangs an' ctter;
and aye the ale was growier:
the nddy and tam grew gracious,
wi' favours secret, sweet, and precious:
the souter tauld his queerest stories;
the ndlord's ugh was ready chorus:
the storm without might rair and rustle,
tam did na mind the storm a whistle.
care, mad to see a man sae happy,
e'en drown'd himsel amang the nappy.
as bees flee hame wi' des o' treasure,
the minutes wing'd their way wi' pleasure:
kings may
Tam O Shanter(4/16)