True Tammas lay on Huntly bank
Bi tribulations herriet;
Fur seeven years lang, this mortal man
Upon a fey, wis merriet.

Fit wis the gift she gied tae him,
Her lover's gift, in pairtin'?
A tongue that cudna tell a lee,
Tae lose him friens fur certain!

Oh, sair's the cloor o honest spik,
Her giftie brocht nae luck
He cudna flatter, beg, nur swick,
An deil the bargain strukk!

"Fit think ye o yer brither's wife?"
The faimly speired at Tam.
He'd rue, they cudna misconstrue
"She's mutton dressed as lamb!"

His sister, merriet on a gype
He cudna thole the tedd
"A neep is better in the park
Than lyin in yer bed!"

Ay luik a gift horse in the mou
It disna, whyles, bring joy ...
The Cox's pippin, o' the Fall,
The timmer naig o Troy ...