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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

JENNY WI' THE AIRN TEETH, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: What a plague is this o' mine
Last Line: Frichten muckle men.
Alternate Author Name(s): Surfaceman
Subject(s): Teeth; Toothaches


What a plague is this o' mine,
Winna steek an e'e;
Though I hap him o'er the heid,
As cozy as can be.
Sleep an' let me to my wark--
A' thae claes to airn--
Jenny wi' the airn teeth,
Come an' tak' the bairn!

Tak' him to your ain den,
Whaur the bogie bides,
But first put baith your big teeth
In his wee plump sides;
Gie your auld gray pow a shake,
Rive him frae my grup,
Tak' him whaur nae kiss is gaun
When he waukens up.

Whatna noise is that I hear
Coomin' doon the street?
Weel I ken the dump, dump,
O' her beetle feet;
Mercy me! she's at the door!
Hear her lift the sneck;
Wheesht, an' cuddle mammy noo,
Closer roun' the neck.

Jenny wi' the airm teeth,
The bairn has aff his claes;
Sleepin' safe an' soun'. I think--
Dinna touch his taes.
Sleepin' bairns are no for you,
Ye may turn aboot,
An' tak' awa' wee Tam next door--
I hear him screichin' oot.

Dump, dump, awa' she gangs
Back the road she cam'.
I hear her at the ither door,
Speirin' after Tam;
He's a crabbit, greetin' thing--
The warst in a' the toon,
Little like my ain wee wean--
Losh, he's sleepin' soun'!

Mithers hae an awfu' wark
Wi' their bairns at nicht,
Chappin' on the chair wi' tangs,
To gie the rogues a fricht;
Aulder bairns are fleyed wi' less,
Weel eneuch we ken,
Bigger bogies, bigger Jennies,
Frichten muckle men.





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