Robert Burns (1759-1796)
Address to the Devil
O Prince, O chief of many throned pow'rs!
That led th' embattled seraphim to war!
(Milton, Paradise Lost)
1O thou! whatever title suit thee,--
2Auld Hornie, Satan, Nick, or Clootie!
3Wha in yon cavern, grim an' sootie,
4 Clos'd under hatches,
5Spairges about the brunstane cootie
6 To scaud poor wretches!
7Hear me, Auld Hangie, for a wee,
8An' let poor damned bodies be;
9I'm sure sma' pleasure it can gie,
10 E'en to a deil,
11To skelp an' scaud poor dogs like me,
12 An' hear us squeel!
13Great is thy pow'r, an' great thy fame;
14Far ken'd an' noted is thy name;
15An' tho' yon lowin heugh's thy hame,
16 Thou travels far;
17An' faith! thou's neither lag nor lame,
19Whyles, ranging like a roarin lion,
20For prey a' holes an' corners tryin;
21Whyles, on the strong-wing'd tempest flyin,
23Whyles, in the human bosom pryin,
24 Unseen thou lurks.
25I've heard my rev'rend graunie say,
26In lanely glens ye like to stray;
27Or whare auld ruin'd castles gray
28 Nod to the moon,
29Ye fright the nightly wand'rer's way
31When twilight did my graunie summon
32To say her pray'rs, douce honest woman!
33Aft yont the dike she's heard you bummin,
34 Wi' eerie drone;
35Or, rustlin thro' the boortrees comin,
36 Wi' heavy groan.
37Ae dreary, windy, winter night,
38The stars shot down wi' sklentin light,
39Wi' you mysel I gat a fright,
41Ye like a rash-buss stood in sight,
43The cudgel in my nieve did shake,
44Each bristl'd hair stood like a stake,
45When wi' an eldritch, stoor "Quaick, quaick,"
46 Amang the springs,
47Awa ye squatter'd like a drake,
48 On whistling wings.
49Let warlocks grim an' wither'd hags
50Tell how wi' you on ragweed nags
51They skim the muirs an' dizzy crags
52 Wi' wicked speed;
53And in kirk-yards renew their leagues,
55Thence, countra wives wi' toil an' pain
56May plunge an' plunge the kirn in vain;
57For oh! the yellow treasure's taen
58 By witchin skill;
59An' dawtet, twal-pint hawkie's gaen
61Thence, mystic knots mak great abuse,
62On young guidmen, fond, keen, an' croose;
63When the best wark-lume i' the house,
65Is instant made no worth a louse,
67When thowes dissolve the snawy hoord,
68An' float the jinglin icy-boord,
69Then water-kelpies haunt the foord
70 By your direction,
71An' nighted trav'lers are allur'd
72 To their destruction.
73And aft your moss-traversing spunkies
74Decoy the wight that late an drunk is:
75The bleezin, curst, mischievous monkeys
76 Delude his eyes,
77Till in some miry slough he sunk is,
78 Ne'er mair to rise.
79When Masons' mystic word an grip
80In storms an' tempests raise you up,
81Some cock or cat your rage maun stop,
82 Or, strange to tell!
83The youngest brither ye wad whip
84 Aff straught to hell!
85Lang syne, in Eden'd bonie yard,
86When youthfu' lovers first were pair'd,
87An all the soul of love they shar'd,
88 The raptur'd hour,
89Sweet on the fragrant flow'ry swaird,
90 In shady bow'r;
91Then you, ye auld snick-drawin dog!
92Ye cam to Paradise incog,
93And play'd on man a cursed brogue,
94 (Black be your fa'!)
95An gied the infant warld a shog,
96 Maist ruin'd a'.
97D'ye mind that day, when in a bizz,
98Wi' reeket duds an reestet gizz,
99Ye did present your smoutie phiz
100 Mang better folk,
101An' sklented on the man of Uz
102 Your spitefu' joke?
103An' how ye gat him i' your thrall,
104An' brak him out o' house and hal',
105While scabs and blotches did him gall,
106 Wi' bitter claw,
107An' lows'd his ill-tongued, wicked scaul,
109But a' your doings to rehearse,
110Your wily snares an' fechtin fierce,
111Sin' that day Michael did you pierce,
112 Down to this time,
113Wad ding a Lallan tongue, or Erse,
114 In prose or rhyme.
115An' now, Auld Cloots, I ken ye're thinkin,
116A certain Bardie's rantin, drinkin,
117Some luckless hour will send him linkin,
118 To your black pit;
119But faith! he'll turn a corner jinkin,
120 An' cheat you yet.
121But fare you weel, Auld Nickie-ben!
122O wad ye tak a thought an' men'!
123Ye aiblins might--I dinna ken--
125I'm wae to think upo' yon den,
126 Ev'n for your sake!
Notes
2] Clootie: hoofie, from cloot, a hoof.
5] spairges: splashes.
brunstane cootie: pail of brimstone.
6] scaud: scald.
7] Hangie: hangman.
11] skelp: spank.
15] lowing heugh: flaming hollow.
17] lag: slow.
18] blate: bashful.
scaur: timid.
22] Tirlin: stripping, unroofing.
30] eldritch: hideous, terrible.
32] douce: sedate, respectable.
33] yont the dyke: beyond the wall.
bummin: booming.
35] boortrees: alders.
38] sklentin: slanting squinting.
40] ayont the lough: beyond the lake or pond.
41] rashbuss: tuft of rushes.
42] sugh: moan, hum.
43] nieve: fist.
45] stoor: hoarse.
49] warlocks: wizards.
50] Ragweed nags: broomsticks.
51] muirs: moors.
54] howkit: dug up.
56] kirn: churn.
59] dawtet, twal-pint hawkie: the petted cow that gives twelve pints of milk.
60] as yell's the bill: as dry as the bull.
62] croose: bold.
63] wark-lume: work-loome.
64] cantraip: magic.
66] bit: crisis.
67] thowes: thaws.
snawy hoord: snowy hoard.
68] float: flood.
boord: border, shore (of the brook).
69] water-kelpies: water-spirits.
73] aft: oft.
spunkies: will-o'-the-wisps.
75] bleezin: blazing.
81] maun: must.
89] swaird: sward.
91] sneck-drawin: latch-lifting.
93] brogue: trick.
95] shog: shake.
97] bizz: flurry.
98] reekit duds: smoked clothes.
reested gizz: smoke-dried face.
99] smoutie: smutty.
101] sklented: squinted; cf. sklentin, line 38.
man of Uz: Job.
104] hal': hold, dwelling.
107] lows'd: loosed.
scaul: scolding wife.
108] warst ava': worst of all.
110] fechtin: fighting.
111] sin' that day Michael did you pierce: as related by Milton, in Paradise Lost, VI, 325.
113] ding: defy.
Lallan: Lowland Scotch.
Erse: Gaelic, Highland Scotch.
116] rantin: making merry.
117] linkin: tripping.
119] jinkin: dodging.
121] auld Nickie-ben: a variant of "Old Nick."
122] men's mend.
123] aiblins: perhaps.
124] hae a stake: Have an opportunity (of salvation). The phrase comes from gambling, where "to have a stake," i.e., to have money to stake, would be to have a chance of winning.
125] wae: sad.
Online text copyright © 2009, Ian Lancashire (the Department of English) and the University of Toronto.
Published by the Web Development Group, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries.
Original text: Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect (Kilmarnock, 1786). PR 4300 1786a K5a SMR. Edinburgh, 1797. B-10 0051 Fisher Library.
First publication date:
1786
RPO poem editor: G. G. Falle
RP edition: 3RP 2.300.
Recent editing: 4:2002/3/15
Composition date:
1785
-
1786
Composition date note: Written in 1785 or early in 1786
Rhyme: abbcbc
Other poems by Robert Burns
