Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE ANNUITANTS ANSWER, by ROBERT CHAMBERS


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE ANNUITANTS ANSWER, by             Poem Explanation        
First Line: My certy! But it sets him weel
Last Line: For me and my annuity.
Subject(s): Investments; Salespersons; Stocks; Bonds; Selling


MY certy! but it sets him weel
Sae vile a tale to tell o' me;
I never could suspect the chiel'
O' sic disingenuity.
I'll no be ninety-four for lang,
My health is far frae being strang,
And he'll mak' profit, richt or wrang,
Ye'll see, by this annuity.

My friends, ye weel can understand
This world is fu' o' roguery;
And ane meets folk on ilka hand
To rug, and rive, and pu' at ye.
I thocht that this same man o'law
Wad save my siller frae them a',
And sae I gave the whilliewha
The note for the annuity.

He says the bargain lookit fair,
And sae to him, I'm sure 'twad be;
I got my hundred pounds a year,
An' he could well allow it tae.
And does he think -- the deevil's limb --
Although I lookit auld and grim,
I was to die to pleasure him,
And squash my braw annuity?

The year had scarcely turn'd its back
When he was irking to be free --
A fule the thing to undertak',
And then sae sune to rue it ye.
I've never been at peace sin' syne --
Nae wonder that sae sair I coyne --
It's jist through terror that I tyne
My life for my annuity.

He's twice had pushion in my kail,
And sax times in my cup o' tea,
I could unfauld a shocking tale
O' something in a cruet, tae.
His arms he ance flang round my neck --
I thought it was to show respeck;
He only meant to gie a check,
Not for, but to, the annuity.

Said ance to me, an honest man,
"Try an insurance company;
Ye'll find it an effective plan
Protection to secure to ye.
Ten pounds a year! -- ye weel can spare't! --
Be that wi' Peter fraser wared;
His office syne will be a guard
For you and your annuity."

I gaed at ance an' spak' to Pate
O' a five hundred policy,
And "Faith!" says he, "ye are nae blate;
I maist could clamahewit ye.
Wi' that chiel's fingers at the knife,
What chance hae ye o' length o' life?
Sae to the door, ye silly wife,
Wi' you and your annuity."

The procurator-fiscal's now
The only friend that I can see;
And it's sma' thing that he can do
To end this sair ankskewity.
But honest Maurice has agreed
That if the villain does the deed,
He'll swing at Libberton Wyndhead
For me and my annuity.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net