Muirland
Jock!
Robert Burns - Poems and Songs
--R.
B.
]
[Footnote 9: William Peebles, in Newton-upon-Ayr, a poetaster,
who, among many other things, published an ode on the "Centenary
of the Revolution," in which was the line: "And bound in
Liberty's endering chain. "--R. B. ]
[Footnote 10: Stephen Young of Barr. --R. B. ]
[Footnote 11: James Young, in New Cumnock, who had lately been
foiled in an ecclesiastical prosecution against a Lieutenant
Mitchel--R. B. ]
Yet to worth let's be just, royal blood ye might boast,
If the Ass were the king o' the brutes,
Davie Bluster! ^12 If the Ass were the king o' the brutes.
Irvine Side! Irvine Side, wi' your turkey-cock pride
Of manhood but sma' is your share:
Ye've the figure, 'tis true, ev'n your foes will allow,
And your friends they dare grant you nae mair,
Irvine Side! ^13 And your friends they dare grant you nae mair.
Muirland Jock! muirland Jock, when the Lord makes a rock,
To crush common-sense for her sins;
If ill-manners were wit, there's no mortal so fit
To confound the poor Doctor at ance,
Muirland Jock! ^14 To confound the poor Doctor at ance.
Andro Gowk! Andro Gowk, ye may slander the Book,
An' the Book nought the waur, let me tell ye;
Tho' ye're rich, an' look big, yet, lay by hat an' wig,
An' ye'll hae a calf's--had o' sma' value,
Andro Gowk! ^15 Ye'll hae a calf's head o' sma value.
Daddy Auld! daddy Auld, there'a a tod in the fauld,
A tod meikle waur than the clerk;
Tho' ye do little skaith, ye'll be in at the death,
For gif ye canna bite, ye may bark,
Daddy Auld! ^16 Gif ye canna bite, ye may bark.
Holy Will! holy Will, there was wit in your skull,
When ye pilfer'd the alms o' the poor;
The timmer is scant when ye're taen for a saunt,
Wha should swing in a rape for an hour,
Holy Will! ^17 Ye should swing in a rape for an hour.
Calvin's sons! Calvin's sons, seize your spiritual guns,
Ammunition you never can need;
[Footnote 12: David Grant, Ochiltree. --R. B.
[Footnote 9: William Peebles, in Newton-upon-Ayr, a poetaster,
who, among many other things, published an ode on the "Centenary
of the Revolution," in which was the line: "And bound in
Liberty's endering chain. "--R. B. ]
[Footnote 10: Stephen Young of Barr. --R. B. ]
[Footnote 11: James Young, in New Cumnock, who had lately been
foiled in an ecclesiastical prosecution against a Lieutenant
Mitchel--R. B. ]
Yet to worth let's be just, royal blood ye might boast,
If the Ass were the king o' the brutes,
Davie Bluster! ^12 If the Ass were the king o' the brutes.
Irvine Side! Irvine Side, wi' your turkey-cock pride
Of manhood but sma' is your share:
Ye've the figure, 'tis true, ev'n your foes will allow,
And your friends they dare grant you nae mair,
Irvine Side! ^13 And your friends they dare grant you nae mair.
Muirland Jock! muirland Jock, when the Lord makes a rock,
To crush common-sense for her sins;
If ill-manners were wit, there's no mortal so fit
To confound the poor Doctor at ance,
Muirland Jock! ^14 To confound the poor Doctor at ance.
Andro Gowk! Andro Gowk, ye may slander the Book,
An' the Book nought the waur, let me tell ye;
Tho' ye're rich, an' look big, yet, lay by hat an' wig,
An' ye'll hae a calf's--had o' sma' value,
Andro Gowk! ^15 Ye'll hae a calf's head o' sma value.
Daddy Auld! daddy Auld, there'a a tod in the fauld,
A tod meikle waur than the clerk;
Tho' ye do little skaith, ye'll be in at the death,
For gif ye canna bite, ye may bark,
Daddy Auld! ^16 Gif ye canna bite, ye may bark.
Holy Will! holy Will, there was wit in your skull,
When ye pilfer'd the alms o' the poor;
The timmer is scant when ye're taen for a saunt,
Wha should swing in a rape for an hour,
Holy Will! ^17 Ye should swing in a rape for an hour.
Calvin's sons! Calvin's sons, seize your spiritual guns,
Ammunition you never can need;
[Footnote 12: David Grant, Ochiltree. --R. B.
