Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AUL' SCOTLAN', by JANET HAMILTON


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AUL' SCOTLAN', by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Aul' scotlan'! Lan' o' cakes an' sang
Last Line: Be juist a true, gude christian mother!
Alternate Author Name(s): Hamilton, Janet Thompson
Subject(s): Scotland


AUL' SCOTLAN'! lan' o' cakes an' sang,
O' gude pease scones an' kebbuck whang,
Yer crumpy farls o' aitmeal cake,
An' barley bannocks, wha wull bake?
It's no the wife that curls her nose
At cogs o' sowens or cadger's brose,
An' uggs at lang-kail, and wud skail
In dub or sheugh the water kail.
The tea-pat at the ingle lowe
Stauns, beekin' syne wi' laif or row,
Or bakes an' jam, she gusts her gab.
The callans—Geordie, Tam, and Rab—
Wi' no ae hair on chin or cheek,
Gang puffin' oot tobacco reek;
In bed at twal instead o' ten,
An' think that swearin' mak's them men.
Waesucks, there's nocht but dress an' daffin',
An' rinnin' here and there, an' yaffin',
Wi' haveral tongue, 'mang lassocks gilpie.
The aul' fock turnin' grey an' shilpie,
Fin' oot ower late that want o' trainin'
To wark, an' wit, the mither hainin'
Her dochter, while fu' sair she toils,
Is juist the thing that lassocks spoils.

The warl's sair altert. In my day,
Afore my hair grew thin an' grey,
A wife wad thocht it sin and shame
If that she brang nae siller hame.
The warkman's wage was geyan sma',
And sae the wife tuk pirns to ca',
Or wrocht at the tambourin' tent,
To eke the wage an' help the rent.
In hairst she keepit up her rig,
An' left the wee bairns wi' the big;
An' wi' the fee bocht claes an' shoon,
An' keepit aye their heids abune.
The bits o' lassocks, blate and douce,
Wur learnt to work an' red the hoose;
A stripit toush, an' plaidin' coat,
Maist feck o' a' the duds they got.
A towmond ye micht ta'en to seek,
Nor seen a pipe in callan's cheek,
Or heard an aith. They kept the neuk
Ilk nicht whan faither tuk the beuk,
An' ran at biddin' wrocht their wark;
An' gat their schulin' efter dark.
There's been an unco grit ado,
An' muckle cry an' little woo,
Aboot what big fock ca' the masses—
Whilk means, ye ken, the workin' classes;
To gie them lear, an' learn the weemin
The airts o' cookery an' cleanin'.

An' noo, ye Scottish wives and mithers,
This speaks to you abune a' ithers—
Ye maun be geyan sair to blame,
An' weel I wat I think great shame
That ony man should need to tell ye
To clean your house an' tent your belly
Wi' weel-made-ready halesume meat,
An' to be carefu' and discreet.
A' this is very gude an' needfu',
But, oh! ye should be unco heedfu'
To airt yer bairns to a' that's richt,
An' frae a' ill to warn and fricht;
An' aye be shure ye gie a sample
O' what ye bid in your example.
Your wark's afore ye, never swither—
Be juist a true, gude Christian mother!





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


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