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Poem by Alexander Boswell


Auld Gudeman


Auld gudeman, ye're a drucken carle, drucken carle;
A' the lang day ye wink and drink, and gape and gaunt;
O' sottish loons ye're the pink and pearl, pink and pearl,
⁠     Ill-far'd, doited ne'er-do-weel.

Hech, gudewife! ye're a flyting body, fiyting body;
Will ye ha'e; but, guid be praised, the wit ye want.
The puttin' cow should be aye a doddy, ayca doddy.
     ⁠Mak' na sic an awsome reel.

⁠          Ye're a sow, auld man:
⁠          Ye get fou, auld man:
⁠          Fye for shame, auld man,
⁠          To your wame, auld man:
     ⁠Pinch'd I win, wi' spinnin' tow,
     ⁠A plack to cleid your back and pow.
⁠          It's a lie, gudewife.
⁠          It's your tea, gudewife,
          ⁠Na, na, gudewife,
          ⁠Ye spend a', gudewife.
     ⁠Dinna fa’ on me pell mell,
⁠     Ye like the drap fu' weel yoursell.

Ye's rue, auld gowk, your jest and frolic, jest and frolic.
Dare ye say, goose, I ever liked to tak' a drappy?
An 'twerena just to cure the cholic, cure the cholic,
⁠     Deil a drap wad weet my mou'.

Troth, gudewife, an' ye wadna swither, wadna swither,
Soon to tak' a cholic, when it brings a drap o' cappy.
But twascore years we ha'e fought thegither, fought thegither;
     ⁠Time it is to gree, I trow.

⁠          I'm wrang, auld John
          ⁠Ower lang, auld John,
⁠          For nought, gude John,
⁠          We ha'e fought, gude John;
⁠     Let's help to bear ilk ither's weight,
⁠     We're far ower feckless now to fight.
          ⁠Ye're richt, gude Kate;
⁠          The nicht, gude Kate,
          ⁠Our cup, gude Kate,
⁠          We'll sup, gude Kate;
     ⁠Thegither frae this hour we'll draw,
     ⁠And toom the stoup atween us twa. 



Alexander Boswell


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