Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TOOTHACHE, by JOHN YOUNG


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TOOTHACHE, by                    
First Line: My sympathy wi' robin gangs
Last Line: For curing sairest heartaches.
Subject(s): Pain; Teeth; Suffering; Misery; Toothaches


"Gie a' the faes o' Scotland's weal
A towmond's toothache." -- Burns.

MY sympathy wi' Robin gangs,
In yon well-worded spring,
'Bout cruel toothache's maddenin' stangs,
That gar'd him loup and fling.
An' wad ane ask me, how it comes
That I wi' Rab condole?
I hae twa auld stumps i' my gums,
Hard, hard eneuch to thole.

I've tried cre'sote, an' oil o' cloves,
I've stuff'd them fu' o' pepper,
Till they are burnt as broun's pan loaves,
But ne'er a hue they're better,
Till e'en the scruif-skin o' my moo
Hangs like an empty blether,
An' my puir lips are hard, I troo,
As ony weel-tann'd leather.

I've smok'd tobacco till I'm sick,
But a' to nae avail,
Close to the ribs I've held my cheek,
But that an' a' does fail.
I've tried the pow'r that's opium's,
I've cramm'd them wi' dry catten,
But o' the dardum i' my gums
It seems there's nae extrackin.

I've bor'd them wi' a wire red het,
Till I the thing hae thraw'd,
In short, a' plans I've tried, and yet
The vile stumps keep their haud.
An' waur than a', they're sae worn doun,
Till maistly oot o' sicht,
That no a dentist i' the toun
Could bring them to the licht.

They min' ane o' some cherish'd sins
Caught in youth's giddy whirl,
He thinks them dead until he fin's
Them gie anither dirl.
An' 'tweel I wat, few are exempt
At times frae stings o' conscience,
That some part o' their life's been spent
At best in hunting nonsense.

But here we ae advantage draw
In getting a' things richted,
An' surely when the fee's sae sma',
We wad do wrang to slicht it.
Ay, tho' the means whiles fail to cure
Infected teeth o' smart aches,
We hae a panacea sure
For curing sairest heartaches.





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