呵!随便你叫什么名字，老色鬼，撒旦，尼克，克洛蒂!你的山洞里有什么东西，阴森森的，黑魆魆的，关在舱口下面，到处乱窜，到处乱窜，来吓唬那些可怜的家伙!听我说，老汉格，就一会儿，让那些该死的可怜的尸体去吧;我相信它能给我带来快乐，哪怕是给一个魔鬼，让我把像我这样可怜的狗扒了，吓了一跳，听我们尖叫!你的力量大，你的名声大;你的名字早已为人所知;你说这是你的名字，你走得很远;一个“信仰!你既不迟滞，也不跛足，既不迟滞，也不畏缩。 Whyles, ranging like a roarin lion, For prey a' holes an' corners tryin; Whyles, on the strong-wing' d tempest flyin, Tirlin' the kirks; Whyles, in the human bosom pryin, Unseen thou lurks. I've heard my rev'rend graunie say, In lanely glens ye like to stray; Or whare auld ruin'd castles gray Nod to the moon, Ye fright the nightly wand'rer's way Wi' eldritch croon. When twilight did my graunie summon To say her pray'rs, douce honest woman! Aft yont the dike she's heard you bummin, Wi' eerie drone; Or, rustlin thro' the boortrees comin, Wi' heavy groan. Ae dreary, windy, winter night, The stars shot down wi' sklentin light, Wi' you mysel I gat a fright, Ayont the lough; Ye like a rash-buss stood in sight, Wi' waving sugh. The cudgel in my nieve did shake, Each bristl'd hair stood like a stake, When wi' an eldritch, stoor 'Quaick, quaick,' Amang the springs, Awa ye squatter'd like a drake, On whistling wings. Let warlocks grim an' wither'd hags Tell how wi' you on ragweed nags They skim the muirs an' dizzy crags Wi' wicked speed; And in kirk-yards renew their leagues, Owre howket dead. Thence, countra wives wi' toil an' pain May plunge an' plunge the kirn in vain; For oh! the yellow treasure's taen By witchin skill; An' dawtet, twal-pint hawkie's gaen As yell's the bill. Thence, mystic knots mak great abuse, On young guidmen, fond, keen, an' croose; When the best wark-lume i' the house, By cantraip wit, Is instant made no worth a louse, Just at the bit. When thowes dissolve the snawy hoord, An' float the jinglin icy-boord, Then water-kelpie s haunt the foord By your direction, An' nighted trav'lers are allur'd To their destruction. And aft your moss-travers ing spunkies Decoy the wight that late an drunk is: The bleezin, curst, mischievous monkeys Delude his eyes, Till in some miry slough he sunk is, Ne'er mair to rise. When Masons' mystic word an grip In storms an' tempests raise you up, Some cock or cat your rage maun stop, Or, strange to tell! The youngest brither ye wad whip Aff straught to hell! Lang syne, in Eden'd bonie yard, When youthfu' lovers first were pair'd, An all the soul of love they shar'd, The raptur'd hour, Sweet on the fragrant flow'ry swaird, In shady bow'r; Then you, ye auld snick-drawin dog! Ye cam to Paradise incog, And play'd on man a cursed brogue, (Black be your fa'!) An gied the infant warld a shog, Maist ruin'd a'. D'ye mind that day, when in a bizz, Wi' reeket duds an reestet gizz, Ye did present your smoutie phiz Mang better folk, An' sklented on the man of Uz Your spitefu' joke? An' how ye gat him i' your thrall, An' brak him out o' house and hal', While scabs and blotches did him gall, Wi' bitter claw, An' lows'd his ill-tongued, wicked scaul, Was warst ava? But a' your doings to rehearse, Your wily snares an' fechtin fierce, Sin' that day Michael did you pierce, Down to this time, Wad ding a Lallan tongue, or Erse, In prose or rhyme. An' now, Auld Cloots, I ken ye're thinkin, A certain Bardie's rantin, drinkin, Some luckless hour will send him linkin, To your black pit; But faith! he'll turn a corner jinkin, An' cheat you yet. But fare you weel, Auld Nickie-ben! O wad ye tak a thought an' men'! Ye aiblins might-I dinna ken- Still hae a stake: I'm wae to think upo' yon den, Ev'n for your sake!