Poem by John Skinner

Tullochgorum

		1.

Come gie’s a sang, Montgomery cry’d, 
And lay your disputes all aside, 
What signifies’t for folks to chide 
	For what was done before them: 
Let Whig and Tory all agree, 
Whig and Tory, Whig and Tory, 
Whig and Tory all agree, 
 	To drop their Whig-mig-morum; 
Let Whig and Tory all agree 
 	To spend the night wi’ mirth and glee, 
And cheerfu’ sing alang wi’ me 
 	The Reel o’ Tullochgorum.

		2.

O’ Tullochgorum’s my delight, 
It gars us a’ in ane unite, 
And ony sumph that keeps a spite, 
	In conscience I abhor him: 
For blyth and cheerie we’ll be a’, 
Blyth and cheerie, blyth and cheerie, 
Blyth and cheerie we’ll be a’, 
	And mak’ a happy quorum; 
For blyth and cheerie we’ll be a’ 
	As lang as we hae breath to draw, 
And dance till we be like to fa’ 
	The Reel o’ Tullochgorum.

		3.

What needs there be sae great a fraise 
Wi’ dringing dull Italian lays, 
I wadna gie our ain Strathspeys 
	For half a hunder score o’ them; 
They’re dowf and dowie at the best, 
Dowf and dowie, dowf and dowie, 
Dowf and dowie at the best, 
	Wi’ a’ their variorum; 
They’re dowf and dowie at the best, 
	Their allegros and a’ the rest, 
They canna’ please a Scottish taste 
	Compar’d wi’ Tullochgorum.

		4.

Let warldly worms their minds oppress 
Wi fears o’ want and double cess, 
And sullen sots themsells distress 
	Wi’ keeping up decorum: 
Shall we sae sour and sulky sit, 
Sour and sulky, sour and sulky, 
Sour and sulky shall we sit 
	Like old philosophorum! 
Shall we sae sour and sulky sit, 
	Wi’ neither sense, nor mirth, nor wit, 
Nor ever try to shake a fit 
	To th’ Reel o’ Tullochgorum?

		5.

May choicest blessings aye attend 
Each honest, open-hearted friend, 
And calm and quiet be his end, 
	And a’ that’s good watch o’er him; 
May peace and plenty be his lot, 
Peace and plenty, peace and plenty, 
Peace and plenty be his lot, 
	And dainties a great store o’ them; 
May peace and plenty be his lot, 
	Unstain’d by any vicious spot, 
And may he never want a groat, 
	That’s fond o Tullochgorum!

		6.

But for the sullen frumpish fool, 
That loves to be oppression’s tool, 
May envy gnaw his rotten soul, 
	And discontent devour him; 
May dool and sorrow be his chance, 
Dool and sorrow, dool and sorrow, 
Dool and sorrow be his chance, 
	And nane say, wae’s me for him 
May dool and sorrow be his chance, 
	Wi’ a’ the ills that come frae France, 
Wha e’er he be that winna dance 
	The Reel o’ Tullochgorum.

1. The Epistle to Robert Burns from the Author of «Tullochgorum»
2. John o’ Badenyon
3. On Burns’ Address to a Louse
4. The Auld Minister’s Song

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