Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO MY AULD BREEKS, by ROBERT FERGUSSON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Now gae your wa's-tho' anes as gude Last Line: For philip was, like him, a man. Alternate Author Name(s): Ferguson, Robert Subject(s): Money; Old Age | ||||||||
Now gae your wa's -- Tho' anes as gude As ever happit flesh and blude, Yet part we maun -- The case sae hard is, Amang the writers and the bardies, That lang they'll brook the auld I trou, Or neibours cry, "Weel brook the new"; Still making tight wi tither steek, The tither hole, the tither eik, To bang the birr o' winter's anger, And had the hurdies out o' langer. Siclike some weary wight will fill His kyte wi drogs frae doctor's bill, Thinking to tack the tither year To life, and look baith hale an' fier, Till at the lang-run death dirks in, To birze his saul ayont his skin. You needna wag your duds o' clouts, Nor fa into your dorty pouts, To think that erst you've hain'd my tail Frae wind and weet, frae snaw and hail, And for reward, whan bald and hummil, Frae garret high to dree a tumble. For you I car'd, as lang's ye dow'd Be lin'd wi siller or wi gowd: Now to befriend, it wad be folly, Your raggit hide an' pouches holey; For wha but kens a poet's placks Get mony weary flaws an' cracks, And canna thole to hae them tint, As he sae seenil sees the mint? Yet round the warld keek and see, That ithers fare as ill as thee; For weel we loo the chiel we think Can get us tick, or gie us drink, Till o' his purse we've seen the bottom, Then we despise, and hae forgot him. Yet gratefu hearts, to make amends, Will ay be sorry for their friends, And I for thee -- As mony a time Wi you I've speel'd the braes o' rime, Whare for the time the Muse ne'er cares For siller, or sic guilefu wares, Wi whilk we drumly grow, and crabbit, Dour, capernoited, thrawin gabbit, And brither, sister, friend and fae, Without remeid of kindred, slay. You've seen me round the bickers reel Wi heart as hale as temper'd steel, And face sae apen, free and blyth, Nor thought that sorrow there could kyth; But the neist mament this was lost, Like gowan in December's frost. Could Prick-the-louse but be sae handy To make the breeks and claes to stand ay, Thro' thick and thin wi you I'd dash on, Nor mind the folly of the fashion: But, hegh! the times' vicissitudo Gars ither breeks decay as you do. Thae Macaronies, braw and windy, Maun fail -- Sic transit gloria mundi! Now speed you to some madam's chaumer, That but an' ben rings dule an' claumer, Ask her, in kindness, if she seeks In hidling ways to wear the breeks? Safe you may dwall, tho' mould and motty, Beneath the veil o' under coatie, For this mair faults nor yours can screen Frae lover's quickest sense, his een. Or if some bard, in lucky times, Should profit meikle by his rhymes, And pace awa, wi smirky face, In siller or in gowden lace, Glowr in his face, like spectre gaunt, Remind him o' his former want, To cow his daffin and his pleasure, And gar him live within the measure. So Philip, it is said, who would ring Owr Macedon a just and gude king, Fearing that power might plume his feather, And bid him stretch beyond the tether, Ilk morning to his lug wad ca A tiny servant o' his ha, To tell him to improve his span, For Philip was, like him, a man. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT EIGHTY I CHANGE MY VIEW by DAVID IGNATOW FAWN'S FOSTER-MOTHER by ROBINSON JEFFERS THE DEER LAY DOWN THEIR BONES by ROBINSON JEFFERS OLD BLACK MEN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON A WINTER ODE TO THE OLD MEN OF LUMMUS PARK, / MIAMI, FLORIDA by DONALD JUSTICE AFTER A LINE BY JOHN PEALE BISHOP by DONALD JUSTICE TO HER BODY, AGAINST TIME by ROBERT KELLY SONG FROM A COUNTRY FAIR by LEONIE ADAMS BRAID CLAITH by ROBERT FERGUSSON THE DAFT DAYS by ROBERT FERGUSSON A DRINK ECLOGUE: LANDLADY, BRANDY AND WHISKY by ROBERT FERGUSSON |
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