Cock up your beaver

[Salomé]

Cock Up Your Beaver

When first my brave Johnie lad came to this town,
He had a blue bonnet that wanted the crown,
But now he has gotten a hat and a feather -
Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up your beaver!

Cock up your beaver, and cock it fu' sprush!
We'll over the border and gie them a brush:
There's somebody there we'll teach better behavior -
Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up your beaver!

~Rabbie Burns

Happy 250th Rabbie!

Post your fav. Burns here!

LOL. Yes. I am sad.

 

[ragashree]

You are just trying to prove me right about you, aren't you?

That aside: I shall do my best. This one seems quite good, except for the whole stanzas I can make neither head nor more than about 1/8th of a tail of:


To A Mouse, On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough

Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!

I'm truly sorry man's dominion,
Has broken nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!

Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell-
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.

That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!

But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'men
Gang aft agley,
An'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me
The present only toucheth thee:
But, Och! I backward cast my e'e.
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!

 

[Salomé]

^ That's my fav too!
Heh. I wanted to give the mods a bit of a head-scratch.

C'mon fellow Scots and wannabe Scots!
Where's your national pride in this the "Year of Homecoming"?

Such a Parcel of Rogues in a Nation

Fareweel to a' our Scottish fame,
Fareweel our ancient glory!
Fareweel ev'n to the Scottish name.
Sae famed in martial story!
Now Sark rins over Salway sands,
An' Tweed rins to the ocean,
To mark where England's province stands --
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

What force or guile could not subdue
Thro' many warlike ages
Is wrought now by a coward few
For hireling traitor's wages.
The English steel we could disdain,
Secure in valour's station;
But English gold has been our bane --
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

O, would, or I had seen the day
That Treason thus could sell us,
My auld grey head had lien in clay
Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace!
But pith and power, till my last hour
I'll mak this declaration :-
'We're bought and sold for English gold'--
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

Robert Burns (1759-1796)

 

[ragashree]

^ That's my fav too!
Heh. I wanted to give the mods a bit of a head-scratch.

C'mon fellow Scots and wannabe Scots!
Where's your national pride in this the "Year of Homecoming"?

Maybe your last contribution explained it better than anything else could! But come on, Scots (and more to the point, all you Yanks of Scottish ancestry; if the topic was Irish and you were one 32nd Irish because your 3 times great grandmother succumbed to the allure of the new postman's blarney you'd be falling over yourself with patriotic fervour for God's sake).

This is PATHETIC! Rabbie Bairns' (pron) quarter-millenium and it doesn't even raise so much as a whimper, except from yours truly. And I'm not even 1/32nd Scottish so I shall have to clutch at the soggy straw of Celtic solidarity as an excuse for posting here at all... But maybe, Blue, you should have entitled the thread something clinically obvious like "Burns Night" or even better "Scottish Patriots Post HERE". It looks like only pervs like us are bothering to read it with the title you gave it (though it's probably the one he would have given it in the circumstances too).

Anyway, here's a further contribution. This is probably my favourite actually. Americans get a good translation done and take note of the sentiments please


A Man's A Man for A' That.


Is there for honest poverty
That hings his head, an a' that?
The coward slave, we pass him by -
We dare be poor for a' that!
For a' that, an a' that,
Our toils obscure, an a' that,
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.

What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin grey, an a' that?
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine -
A man's a man for a' that.
For a' that, an a' that.
Their tinsel show, an a' that,
The honest man, tho e'er sae poor,
Is king o men for a' that.

Ye see you birkie ca'd 'a lord,'
What struts, an stares, an a' that?
Tho hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a cuif for a' that.
For a' that, an a' that,
His ribband, star, an a' that,
The man o independent mind,
He looks an laughs at a' that.

A prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, an a' that!
But an honest man's aboon his might -
Guid faith, he mauna fa' that!
For a' that, an a' that,
Their dignities, an a' that,
The pith o sense an pride o worth.
Are higher rank than a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may
[As come it will for a' that],
That Sense and Worth o'er a' the earth,
Shall bear the gree an a' that.
For a' that, an a' that,
It's comin yet for a' that,
That man to man, the world, o'er
Shall brithers be for a' that.

 

[lowtech redneck]

C'mon fellow Scots and wannabe Scots!
Where's your national pride in this the "Year of Homecoming"?

I had to google that; if this is a serious initiative, ya'lls advertising campaign sucks. Your timing also sucks.

Besides, I prefer William Blake.

 

[Salomé]

maybe, Blue, you should have entitled the thread something clinically obvious like "Burns Night" or even better "Scottish Patriots Post HERE".

Do you know the mentality of the forumites here, Rag?
I'll bet you pounds to cents this title gets more hits than the ones you've suggested.

I had to google that; if this is a serious initiative, ya'lls advertising campaign sucks. Your timing also sucks.

Yeah, well, we don't have unlimited funds. We're only targeting the hi-tech rednecks.

 

[Salomé]

mmmmm tasty! 3 dollops of assorted mushy crap is our traditional dish.
And they say we don't understand cuisine! See what you're missing ppl?

Address to a Haggis.


Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang's my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o need,
While thro your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An cut you up wi ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive:
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
The auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
'Bethankit' hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi perfect sconner,
Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit:
Thro bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll make it whissle;
An legs an arms, an heads will sned,
Like taps o thrissle.

Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies:
But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,
Gie her a Haggis.

 

[GinKuusouka]

Burlesque Lament For The Absence Of William Creech, Publisher

Auld chuckie Reekie's^1 sair distrest,
Down droops her ance weel burnish'd crest,
Nae joy her bonie buskit nest
Can yield ava,
Her darling bird that she lo'es best-
Willie's awa!

O Willie was a witty wight,
And had o' things an unco' sleight,
Auld Reekie aye he keepit tight,
And trig an' braw:
But now they'll busk her like a fright, -
Willie's awa!

The stiffest o' them a' he bow'd,
The bauldest o' them a' he cow'd;
They durst nae mair than he allow'd,
That was a law:
We've lost a birkie weel worth gowd;
Willie's awa!

Now gawkies, tawpies, gowks and fools,
Frae colleges and boarding schools,
May sprout like simmer puddock-stools
In glen or shaw;
He wha could brush them down to mools-
Willie's awa!

The brethren o' the Commerce-chaumer
May mourn their loss wi' doolfu' clamour;
He was a dictionar and grammar
Among them a';
I fear they'll now mak mony a stammer;
Willie's awa!

Nae mair we see his levee door
Philosophers and poets pour,
And toothy critics by the score,
In bloody raw!
The adjutant o' a' the core-
Willie's awa!

Now worthy Gregory's Latin face,
Tytler's and Greenfield's modest grace;
Mackenzie, Stewart, such a brace
As Rome ne'er saw;
They a' maun meet some ither place,
Willie's awa!

Poor Burns ev'n Scotch Drink canna quicken,
He cheeps like some bewilder'd chicken
Scar'd frae it's minnie and the cleckin,
By hoodie-craw;
Grieg's gien his heart an unco kickin,
Willie's awa!

Now ev'ry sour-mou'd girnin blellum,
And Calvin's folk, are fit to fell him;
Ilk self-conceited critic skellum
His quill may draw;
He wha could brawlie ward their bellum-
Willie's awa!

Up wimpling stately Tweed I've sped,
And Eden scenes on crystal Jed,
And Ettrick banks, now roaring red,
While tempests blaw;
But every joy and pleasure's fled,
Willie's awa!

May I be Slander's common speech;
A text for Infamy to preach;
And lastly, streekit out to bleach
In winter snaw;
When I forget thee, Willie Creech,
Tho' far awa!

May never wicked Fortune touzle him!
May never wicked men bamboozle him!
Until a pow as auld's Methusalem
He canty claw!
Then to the blessed new Jerusalem,
Fleet wing awa!

Note To Mr. Renton Of Lamerton

Your billet, Sir, I grant receipt;
Wi' you I'll canter ony gate,
Tho' 'twere a trip to yon blue warl',
Whare birkies march on burning marl:
Then, Sir, God willing, I'll attend ye,
And to his goodness I commend ye.

R. Burns

 

[ragashree]

Do you know the mentality of the forumites here, Rag?
I'll bet you pounds to cents this title gets more hits than the ones you've suggested.

What with the £/$ing exchange rate going the way it is, I would lose out on that offer either way or I would take you up on it!

I know of course that MORE people will read it, of course but those types of poster have, umm, other interests than poetry. I believe they prefer to communicate in a more pictorial, which is to say graphic, manner, so to speak

Edit: ^ Yay! A true Scots-American patriot!

 

[Sniffles]

I absolutely love Robert Burns!

[youtube="bd68sw71UDI"]A Man's A Man for All That[/youtube]

Is there for honest Poverty
That hings his head, an' a' that;
The coward slave-we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a' that!
For a' that, an' a' that.
Our toils obscure an' a' that,
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The Man's the gowd for a' that.

What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin grey, an' a that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine;
A Man's a Man for a' that:
For a' that, and a' that,
Their tinsel show, an' a' that;
The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.

Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that;
Tho' hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a cuif for a' that:
For a' that, an' a' that,
His ribband, star, an' a' that:
The man o' independent mind
He looks an' laughs at a' that.

A prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, an' a' that;
But an honest man's aboon his might,
Gude faith, he maunna fa' that!
For a' that, an' a' that,
Their dignities an' a' that;
The pith o' sense, an' pride o' worth,
Are higher rank than a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may,
As come it will for a' that,
That Sense and Worth, o'er a' the earth,
Shall bear the gree, an' a' that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
It's coming yet for a' that,
That Man to Man, the world o'er,
Shall brothers be for a' that.

 

[Salomé]

Peguy, you just lost this thread major cool points. And you managed to repeat post. Although it's true a man is a man for all that.

/profound.

Anyway... who could forget the annual call to forget old acquaintances that is Auld Lang Syne?


Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind ?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne ?

CHORUS:
For auld lang syne, my jo,
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp !
And surely I’ll be mine !
And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pu’d the gowans fine ;
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary foot,
Sin auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We twa hae paidl’d i' the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine ;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
Sin auld lang syne.

CHORUS

And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere !
And gie's a hand o’ thine !
And we’ll tak a right gude-willy waught,
For auld lang syne.

CHORUS

I do like to tak a right gude willy waught mysel, from time to time.

 

[Sniffles]

So sorry Mrs. Rob Roy MacGregor. Oh well, at least my post was accompained by a musical rendition from one of your top folk singers.

 

[GinKuusouka]

lol A Scots-American, ay. As well as Irish-American, Welsh-American, English-American, German-American, Swedish-American, and Cherokee-American. I enjoy my heritage. Except for the American bit. *nods* Truly patriotic? Only to my heart. Otherwise, I believe that would be too much to be patriotic to. ._. And I may have to make fun of myself for being of opposing backgrounds. lol But yes. Yay for Robert Burns!