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trangled:

a knife, a father&039;s throat had angled

who his a n of life bereft,

the grey-hairs yet stack to the heft;

wi&039; air of horrible and awfu&039;,

which even to na wad be unwfu&039;

as taie glowr&039;d, aaz&039;d, and curio,

the irth and fun grew fast and furio;

the piper loud and louder blew,

the dancers ick and icker flew,

the reel&039;d, they set, they cross&039;d, they cleekit,

till ilka carl swat and reekit,

and ost her duddies to the wark,

and lkit at it her sark!

now ta, o ta! had they been eans,

a&039; pp and strappg their teens!

their sarks, stead o&039; creeshie fen,

been snaw-white seventeen hunder len!—

thir breeks o&039; e, y only pair,

that ance were psh o&039; guid be hair,

i wad hae gien the off y hurdies,

for ae blk o&039; the bonie burdies!

but wither&039;d beldas, auld and droll,

rigwoodie hags wad spean a foal,

loupg an&039; flgg on a cruock

i wonder did na turn thy stoach

but ta kent what was what fu&039; brawlie:

there was ae wench and waulie

that night enlisted the re,

ng after ken&039;d on carrick shore;

(for ony a beast to dead she shot,

and perish&039;d ony a bonie boat,

and shook baith ikle rn and bear,

and kept the untry-side fear);

her cutty sark, o&039; paisley harn,

that while a ssie she had worn,

longitude tho&039; rely scanty,

it was her best, and she was vauntie

ah! little ken&039;d thy reverend grannie,

that sark she ft for her wee nannie,

wi a pund sts (&039;as a&039; her riches),

wad ever grac&039;d a dance of witches!

but here y e her g aun ur,

sic flights are far beyond her power;

to sg how nannie p and fng,

(a uple jade she was and strang),

and how ta stood, like ane bewithc&039;d,

and tho

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