English poetry

British Poets Biographies Poems About Random Poem
The Rating of Poets The Rating of Poems

Poem by Robert Burns

Address to the Toothache

MY curse upon your venomd stang,
That shoots my torturd gums alang,
And thro my lugs gies mony a twang,
    Wi gnawing vengeance;
Tearing my nerves wi bitter pang,
    Like racking engines!

When fevers burn, or ague freezes,
Rheumatics gnaw, or colic squeezes;
Our neighbours sympathy may ease us,
    Wi pitying moan;
But thee-thou hell o a diseases!
    Aye mocks our groan.

Adown my beard the slavers trickle,
I throw the wee stools oer the mickle,
As round the fire the giglets keckle
    To see me loup;
While, raving mad, I wish a heckle
    Were in their doup.

O a the numerous human dools,
Ill hairsts, daft bargains, cutty-stools,
Or worthy friends rakd i the mools-
    Sad sight to see!
The tricks o knaves, or fash o fools,
    Thou bearst the gree.

Whereer that place be priests ca hell,
Whence a the tones o misry yell,
And ranked plagues their numbers tell,
    In dreadfu raw,
Thou, Toothache, surely bearst the bell
    Amang them a!

O thou grim mischief-making chiel,
That gars the notes of discord squeal,
Till daft mankind aft dance a reel
    In gore a shoe-thick; -
Gie a the faes o Scotlands weal
    A towmonts Toothache!

- 1795

Robert Burns

Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. Canst Thou Leave Me Thus?
  2. Her Daddie Fforbad
  3. On Sensibility
  4. Young Highland Rover
  5. Phillis the Fair

Poem to print To Print Poem


The Last Poems


English Poetry. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru