The Twa Dogs Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCDDEE FFGHIJ FFKKDDJJEE KKEELL MMNNOOPP KKJJDDDDD K QRST UUPPUUUU VVDDKKKKDDDD Q TWMMUUXY UUKKJJUU K JJPPZA2 JB2WWKKPP UU Q C2C2JJ JJJJ UUJJ YYUUUUDD UUDDQQ UUEEPPUUEE JJA2ZWWKKDD K JJEEVVJJPP UUJJU UKKUU DD Q JJJJ UUKKUUKKA2Z KKEE K EE JJUUUUEEEE TTPPJJD| A Tale | A |
| - | |
| 'Twas in that place o' Scotland's isle | B |
| That bears the name o' auld King Coil | C |
| Upon a bonie day in June | D |
| When wearin' thro' the afternoon | D |
| Twa dogs that were na thrang at hame | E |
| Forgather'd ance upon a time | E |
| - | |
| The first I'll name they ca'd him Caesar | F |
| Was keepit for His Honor's pleasure | F |
| His hair his size his mouth his lugs | G |
| Shew'd he was nane o' Scotland's dogs | H |
| But whalpit some place far abroad | I |
| Whare sailors gang to fish for cod | J |
| - | |
| His locked letter'd braw brass collar | F |
| Shew'd him the gentleman an' scholar | F |
| But though he was o' high degree | K |
| The fient a pride nae pride had he | K |
| But wad hae spent an hour caressin | D |
| Ev'n wi' al tinkler gipsy's messin | D |
| At kirk or market mill or smiddie | J |
| Nae tawted tyke tho' e'er sae duddie | J |
| But he wad stan't as glad to see him | E |
| An' stroan't on stanes an' hillocks wi' him | E |
| - | |
| The tither was a ploughman's collie | K |
| A rhyming ranting raving billie | K |
| Wha for his friend an' comrade had him | E |
| And in freak had Luath ca'd him | E |
| After some dog in Highland Sang | L |
| Was made lang syne Lord knows how lang | L |
| - | |
| He was a gash an' faithfu' tyke | M |
| As ever lap a sheugh or dyke | M |
| His honest sonsie baws'nt face | N |
| Aye gat him friends in ilka place | N |
| His breast was white his touzie back | O |
| Weel clad wi' coat o' glossy black | O |
| His gawsie tail wi' upward curl | P |
| Hung owre his hurdie's wi' a swirl | P |
| - | |
| Nae doubt but they were fain o' ither | K |
| And unco pack an' thick thegither | K |
| Wi' social nose whiles snuff'd an' snowkit | J |
| Whiles mice an' moudieworts they howkit | J |
| Whiles scour'd awa' in lang excursion | D |
| An' worry'd ither in diversion | D |
| Until wi' daffin' weary grown | D |
| Upon a knowe they set them down | D |
| An' there began a lang digression | D |
| About the 'lords o' the creation ' | - |
| - | |
| Caesar | K |
| - | |
| I've aften wonder'd honest Luath | Q |
| What sort o' life poor dogs like you have | R |
| An' when the gentry's life I saw | S |
| What way poor bodies liv'd ava | T |
| - | |
| Our laird gets in his racked rents | U |
| His coals his kane an' a' his stents | U |
| He rises when he likes himsel' | P |
| His flunkies answer at the bell | P |
| He ca's his coach he ca's his horse | U |
| He draws a bonie silken purse | U |
| As lang's my tail where thro' the steeks | U |
| The yellow letter'd Geordie keeks | U |
| - | |
| Frae morn to e'en it's nought but toiling | V |
| At baking roasting frying boiling | V |
| An' tho' the gentry first are stechin | D |
| Yet ev'n the ha' folk fill their pechan | D |
| Wi' sauce ragouts an' sic like trashtrie | K |
| That's little short o' downright wastrie | K |
| Our whipper in wee blasted wonner | K |
| Poor worthless elf it eats a dinner | K |
| Better than ony tenant man | D |
| His Honour has in a' the lan' | D |
| An' what poor cot folk pit their painch in | D |
| I own it's past my comprehension | D |
| - | |
| Luath | Q |
| - | |
| Trowth Caesar whiles they're fash't eneugh | T |
| A cottar howkin in a sheugh | W |
| Wi' dirty stanes biggin a dyke | M |
| Baring a quarry an' sic like | M |
| Himsel' a wife he thus sustains | U |
| A smytrie o' wee duddie weans | U |
| An' nought but his han' daurk to keep | X |
| Them right an' tight in thack an' rape | Y |
| - | |
| An' when they meet wi' sair disasters | U |
| Like loss o' health or want o' masters | U |
| Ye maist wad think a wee touch langer | K |
| An' they maun starve o' cauld an' hunger | K |
| But how it comes I never kent yet | J |
| They're maistly wonderfu' contented | J |
| An' buirdly chiels an' clever hizzies | U |
| Are bred in sic a way as this is | U |
| - | |
| Caesar | K |
| - | |
| But then to see how ye're negleckit | J |
| How huff'd an' cuff'd an' disrespeckit | J |
| Lord man our gentry care as little | P |
| For delvers ditchers an' sic cattle | P |
| They gang as saucy by poor folk | Z |
| As I wad by a stinkin brock | A2 |
| - | |
| I've notic'd on our laird's court day | J |
| An' mony a time my heart's been wae | B2 |
| Poor tenant bodies scant o'cash | W |
| How they maun thole a factor's snash | W |
| He'll stamp an' threaten curse an' swear | K |
| He'll apprehend them poind their gear | K |
| While they maun stan' wi' aspect humble | P |
| An' hear it a' an' fear an' tremble | P |
| - | |
| I see how folk live that hae riches | U |
| But surely poor folk maun be wretches | U |
| - | |
| Luath | Q |
| - | |
| They're no sae wretched's ane wad think | C2 |
| Tho' constantly on poortith's brink | C2 |
| They're sae accustom'd wi' the sight | J |
| The view o't gives them little fright | J |
| - | |
| Then chance and fortune are sae guided | J |
| They're aye in less or mair provided | J |
| An' tho' fatigued wi' close employment | J |
| A blink o' rest's a sweet enjoyment | J |
| - | |
| The dearest comfort o' their lives | U |
| Their grushie weans an' faithfu' wives | U |
| The prattling things are just their pride | J |
| That sweetens a' their fire side | J |
| - | |
| An' whiles twalpennie worth o' nappy | Y |
| Can mak the bodies unco happy | Y |
| They lay aside their private cares | U |
| To mind the Kirk and State affairs | U |
| They'll talk o' patronage an' priests | U |
| Wi' kindling fury i' their breasts | U |
| Or tell what new taxation's comin | D |
| An' ferlie at the folk in Lon'on | D |
| - | |
| As bleak fac'd Hallowmass returns | U |
| They get the jovial rantin kirns | U |
| When rural life of ev'ry station | D |
| Unite in common recreation | D |
| Love blinks Wit slaps an' social Mirth | Q |
| Forgets there's Care upo' the earth | Q |
| - | |
| That merry day the year begins | U |
| They bar the door on frosty win's | U |
| The nappy reeks wi' mantling ream | E |
| An' sheds a heart inspiring steam | E |
| The luntin pipe an' sneeshin mill | P |
| Are handed round wi' right guid will | P |
| The cantie auld folks crackin crouse | U |
| The young anes rantin thro' the house | U |
| My heart has been sae fain to see them | E |
| That I for joy hae barkit wi' them | E |
| - | |
| Still it's owre true that ye hae said | J |
| Sic game is now owre aften play'd | J |
| There's mony a creditable stock | A2 |
| O' decent honest fawsont folk | Z |
| Are riven out baith root an' branch | W |
| Some rascal's pridefu' greed to quench | W |
| Wha thinks to knit himsel the faster | K |
| In favour wi' some gentle master | K |
| Wha aiblins thrang a parliamentin | D |
| For Britain's guid his saul indentin | D |
| - | |
| Caesar | K |
| - | |
| Haith lad ye little ken about it | J |
| For Britain's guid guid faith I doubt it | J |
| Say rather gaun as Premiers lead him | E |
| An' saying ay or no's they bid him | E |
| At operas an' plays parading | V |
| Mortgaging gambling masquerading | V |
| Or maybe in a frolic daft | J |
| To Hague or Calais takes a waft | J |
| To mak a tour an' tak a whirl | P |
| To learn bon ton an' see the worl' | P |
| - | |
| There at Vienna or Versailles | U |
| He rives his father's auld entails | U |
| Or by Madrid he takes the rout | J |
| To thrum guitars an' fecht wi' nowt | J |
| Or down Italian vista startles | U |
| - | |
| Whore hunting amang groves o' myrtles | U |
| Then bowses drumlie German water | K |
| To mak himsel look fair an' fatter | K |
| An' clear the consequential sorrows | U |
| Love gifts of Carnival signoras | U |
| - | |
| For Britain's guid for her destruction | D |
| Wi' dissipation feud an' faction | D |
| - | |
| Luath | Q |
| - | |
| Hech man dear sirs is that the gate | J |
| They waste sae mony a braw estate | J |
| Are we sae foughten an' harass'd | J |
| For gear to gang that gate at last | J |
| - | |
| O would they stay aback frae courts | U |
| An' please themsels wi' country sports | U |
| It wad for ev'ry ane be better | K |
| The laird the tenant an' the cotter | K |
| For thae frank rantin ramblin billies | U |
| Feint haet o' them's ill hearted fellows | U |
| Except for breakin o' their timmer | K |
| Or speakin lightly o' their limmer | K |
| Or shootin of a hare or moor cock | A2 |
| The ne'er a bit they're ill to poor folk | Z |
| - | |
| But will ye tell me Master Caesar | K |
| Sure great folk's life's a life o' pleasure | K |
| Nae cauld nor hunger e'er can steer them | E |
| The very thought o't need na fear them | E |
| - | |
| Caesar | K |
| - | |
| Lord man were ye but whiles whare I am | E |
| The gentles ye wad ne'er envy them | E |
| - | |
| It's true they need na starve or sweat | J |
| Thro' winter's cauld or simmer's heat | J |
| They've nae sair wark to craze their banes | U |
| An' fill auld age wi' grips an' granes | U |
| But human bodies are sic fools | U |
| For a' their colleges an' schools | U |
| That when nae real ills perplex them | E |
| They mak enow themsel's to vex them | E |
| An' aye the less they hae to sturt them | E |
| In like proportion less will hurt them | E |
| - | |
| A country fellow at the pleugh | T |
| His acre's till'd he's right eneugh | T |
| A country girl at her wheel | P |
| Her dizzen's dune she's unco weel | P |
| But gentlemen an' ladies warst | J |
| Wi' ev'n down want o' wark are curst | J |
| They loiter lounging lank an | D |
Robert Burns
(1)
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About The Twa Dogs
The Twa Dogs is a poem by Robert Burns. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
