Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ON THE LATE CAPT. GROSE'S PEREGRINATIONS THRO' SCOTLAND, by ROBERT BURNS Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Hear, land o' cakes, and brither scots Last Line: "wad say, ""shame fa' thee!" Subject(s): Antiques; Grose, Francis (1731-1791); Scotland | ||||||||
Hear, Land o' Cakes, and brither Scots, Frae Maidenkirk to Johnie Groat's; -- If there's a hole in a' your coats, I rede you tent it: A chield's amang you takin notes, And, faith, he'll prent it: If in your bounds ye chance to light Upon a fine, fat fodgel wight, O' stature short, but genius bright, That's he, mark weel; And wow! he has an unco sleight O' cauk and keel. By some auld, houlet-haunted biggin, Or kirk deserted by its riggin, It's ten to ane ye'll find him snug in Some eldritch part, Wi' deils, they say, Lord save's! colleaguin At some black art. Ilk ghaist that haunts auld ha' or chaumer, Ye gipsy-gang that deal in glamour, And you, deep-read in hell's black grammar, Warlocks and witches, Ye'll quake at his conjuring hammer, Ye midnight bitches. It's tauld he was a sodger bred, And ane wad rather fa'n than fled; But now he's quat the spurtle-blade, And dog-skin wallet, And taen the -- Antiquarian trade, I think they call it. He has a fouth o' auld nick-nackets: Rusty airn caps and jinglin jackets, Wad haud the Lothians three in tackets, A towmont gude; And parritch-pats and auld saut-backets, Before the Flood. Of Eve's first fire he has a cinder; Auld Tubalcain's fire-shool and fender; That which distinguished the gender O' Balaam's ass: A broomstick o' the witch of Endor, Weel shod wi' brass. Forbye, he'll shape you aff fu' gleg The cut of Adam's philibeg; The knife that nickit Abel's craig He'll prove you fully, It was a faulding jocteleg, Or lang-kail gullie. But wad ye see him in his glee, For meikle glee and fun has he, Then set him down, and twa or three Gude fellows wi' him: And port, O port! shine thou a wee, And Then ye'll see him! Now, by the Pow'rs o' verse and prose! Thou art a dainty chield, O Grose! -- Whae'er o' thee shall ill suppose, They sair misca' thee; I'd take the rascal by the nose, Wad say, "Shame fa' thee!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SCOTLAND'S WINTER by EDWIN MUIR ELEGY ASKING THAT IT BE THE LAST; FOR INGRID ERHARDT, 1951-1971 by NORMAN DUBIE FUSELAGE INSTALLATION by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA SHOOTING SEASON; IN THE NORTH OF SCOTLAND by ROBINSON JEFFERS IN JOHN UPDIKE'S ROOM by CHRISTOPHER WISEMAN THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE HEART OF THE BRUCE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN ROBERT BRUCE'S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY BEFORE BANNOCKBURN by ROBERT BURNS A BARD'S EPITAPH by ROBERT BURNS A POET'S WELCOME TO HIS LOVE-BEGOTTEN DAUGHTER by ROBERT BURNS |
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