The Author's Earnest Cry And Prayer To The Scotch Representatives In The House Of Commons. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AB C DEFGFH IJKLIL CCCLCL MMMNMN OPPPPP QQQRQS NNNNNN TTTUTU LLLVLV LLLNLN LLLLLL WWWXXX UUUPUP LYLXLX NNNZNZ LLLZLZ ZLLXLX A2A2A2LB2L XXXLXL XXXZXZ C2D2C2UC2U ZZZLZL LLLXLX XXXXXX L XXXLXL XXXXXX B2B2B2UB2U NNNE2NE2 PPPXPX LLLULU B2B2B2PB2P'Dearest of distillation last and best | A |
How art thou lost ' | B |
- | |
Parody On Milton | C |
- | |
- | |
Ye Irish lords ye knights an' squires | D |
Wha represent our brughs an' shires | E |
An' doucely manage our affairs | F |
In Parliament | G |
To you a simple Bardie's prayers | F |
Are humbly sent | H |
- | |
Alas my roupet Muse is hearse | I |
Your honours' hearts wi' grief 'twad pierce | J |
To see her sittin' on her a e | K |
Low i' the dust | L |
An' scriechin' out prosaic verse | I |
An' like to brust | L |
- | |
Tell them wha hae the chief direction | C |
Scotland an' me's in great affliction | C |
E'er sin' they laid that curst restriction | C |
On aqua vit | L |
An' rouse them up to strong conviction | C |
An' move their pity | L |
- | |
Stand forth an' tell yon Premier youth | M |
The honest open naked truth | M |
Tell him o' mine an' Scotland's drouth | M |
His servants humble | N |
The muckie devil blaw ye south | M |
If ye dissemble | N |
- | |
Does ony great man glunch an' gloom | O |
Speak out an' never fash your thumb | P |
Let posts an' pensions sink or soom | P |
Wi' them wha grant 'em | P |
If honestly they canna come | P |
Far better want 'em | P |
- | |
In gath'rin votes you were na slack | Q |
Now stand as tightly by your tack | Q |
Ne'er claw your lug an' fidge your back | Q |
An' hum an' haw | R |
But raise your arm an' tell your crack | Q |
Before them a' | S |
- | |
Paint Scotland greetin' owre her thrizzle | N |
Her mutchkin stoup as toom's a whissle | N |
An' damn'd excisemen in a bussle | N |
Seizin' a stell | N |
Triumphant crushin't like a mussel | N |
Or lampit shell | N |
- | |
Then on the tither hand present her | T |
A blackguard smuggler right behint her | T |
An' cheek for chow a chuffie vintner | T |
Colleaguing join | U |
Picking her pouch as bare as winter | T |
Of a' kind coin | U |
- | |
Is there that bears the name o' Scot | L |
But feels his heart's bluid rising hot | L |
To see his poor auld mither's pot | L |
Thus dung in staves | V |
An' plunder'd o' her hindmost groat | L |
By gallows knaves | V |
- | |
Alas I'm but a nameless wight | L |
Trode i' the mire out o' sight | L |
But could I like Montgomeries fight | L |
Or gab like Boswell | N |
There's some sark necks I wad draw tight | L |
An' tie some hose well | N |
- | |
God bless your honours can ye see't | L |
The kind auld canty carlin greet | L |
An' no get warmly on your feet | L |
An' gar them hear it | L |
An' tell them with a patriot heat | L |
Ye winna bear it | L |
- | |
Some o' you nicely ken the laws | W |
To round the period an' pause | W |
An' wi' rhetorie clause on clause | W |
To mak harangues | X |
Then echo thro' Saint Stephen's wa's | X |
Auld Scotland's wrangs | X |
- | |
Dempster a true blue Scot I'se warran' | U |
Thee aith detesting chaste Kilkerran | U |
An' that glib gabbet Highland baron | U |
The Laird o' Graham | P |
An' ane a chap that's damn'd auldfarren | U |
Dundas his name | P |
- | |
Erskine a spunkie Norland billie | L |
True Campbells Frederick an' Hay | Y |
An' Livingstone the bauld Sir Willie | L |
An' monie ithers | X |
Whom auld Demosthenes or Tully | L |
Might own for brithers | X |
- | |
Arouse my boys exert your mettle | N |
To get auld Scotland back her kettle | N |
Or faith I'll wad my new pleugh pettle | N |
Ye'll see't or lang | Z |
She'll teach you wi' a reekin' whittle | N |
Anither sang | Z |
- | |
This while she's been in crankous mood | L |
Her lost militia fir'd her bluid | L |
Deil na they never mair do guid | L |
Play'd her that pliskie | Z |
An' now she's like to rin red wud | L |
About her whiskey | Z |
- | |
An' L d if once they pit her till't | Z |
Her tartan petticoat she'll kilt | L |
An' durk an' pistol at her belt | L |
She'll tak the streets | X |
An' rin her whittle to the hilt | L |
I' th' first she meets | X |
- | |
For God sake sirs then speak her fair | A2 |
An' straik her cannie wi' the hair | A2 |
An' to the muckle house repair | A2 |
Wi' instant speed | L |
An' strive wi' a' your wit and lear | B2 |
To get remead | L |
- | |
Yon ill tongu'd tinkler Charlie Fox | X |
May taunt you wi' his jeers an' mocks | X |
But gie him't het my hearty cocks | X |
E'en cowe the cadie | L |
An' send him to his dicing box | X |
An' sportin' lady | L |
- | |
Tell yon guid bluid o' auld Boconnock's | X |
I'll be his debt twa mashlum bonnocks | X |
An' drink his health in auld Nanse Tinnock's | X |
Nine times a week | Z |
If he some scheme like tea an' winnocks | X |
Wad kindly seek | Z |
- | |
Could he some commutation broach | C2 |
I'll pledge my aith in guid braid Scotch | D2 |
He need na fear their foul reproach | C2 |
Nor erudition | U |
Yon mixtie maxtie queer hotch potch | C2 |
The Coalition | U |
- | |
Auld Scotland has a raucle tongue | Z |
She's just a devil wi' a rung | Z |
An' if she promise auld or young | Z |
To tak their part | L |
Tho' by the neck she should be strung | Z |
She'll no desert | L |
- | |
An' now ye chosen Five and Forty | L |
May still your mither's heart support ye | L |
Then though a minister grow dorty | L |
An' kick your place | X |
Ye'll snap your fingers poor an' hearty | L |
Before his face | X |
- | |
God bless your honours a' your days | X |
Wi' sowps o' kail and brats o' claise | X |
In spite o' a' the thievish kaes | X |
That haunt St Jamie's | X |
Your humble Poet signs an' prays | X |
While Rab his name is | X |
- | |
Postscript | L |
- | |
Let half starv'd slaves in warmer skies | X |
See future wines rich clust'ring rise | X |
Their lot auld Scotland ne'er envies | X |
But blythe and frisky | L |
She eyes her freeborn martial boys | X |
Tak aff their whiskey | L |
- | |
What tho' their Phoebus kinder warms | X |
While fragrance blooms and beauty charms | X |
When wretches range in famish'd swarms | X |
The scented groves | X |
Or hounded forth dishonour arms | X |
In hungry droves | X |
- | |
Their gun's a burden on their shouther | B2 |
They downa bide the stink o' powther | B2 |
Their bauldest thought's a' hank'ring swither | B2 |
To stan' or rin | U |
Till skelp a shot they're aff a' throther | B2 |
To save their skin | U |
- | |
But bring a Scotsman frae his hill | N |
Clap in his check a Highland gill | N |
Say such is royal George's will | N |
An' there's the foe | E2 |
He has nae thought but how to kill | N |
Twa at a blow | E2 |
- | |
Nae could faint hearted doubtings tease him | P |
Death comes wi' fearless eye he sees him | P |
Wi' bluidy han' a welcome gies him | P |
An' when he fa's | X |
His latest draught o' breathin' lea'es him | P |
In faint huzzas | X |
- | |
Sages their solemn een may steek | L |
An' raise a philosophic reek | L |
An' physically causes seek | L |
In clime an' season | U |
But tell me whiskey's name in Greek | L |
I'll tell the reason | U |
- | |
Scotland my auld respected mither | B2 |
Tho' whiles ye moistify your leather | B2 |
Till whare ye sit on craps o' heather | B2 |
Ye tine your dam | P |
Freedom and whiskey gang thegither | B2 |
Tak aff your dram | P |
Robert Burns
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation