Читать книгу A Parody Anthology - Wells Carolyn - Страница 14

SHOULD Gaelic speech be e'er forgot,

And never brocht to min',

For she'll be spoke in Paradise

In the days of auld lang syne.

When Eve, all fresh in beauty's charms,

First met fond Adam's view,

The first word that he'll spoke till her

Was, “cumar achum dhu."

And Adam in his garden fair,

Whene'er the day did close,

The dish that he'll to supper teuk

Was always Athole brose.

When Adam from his leafy bower

Cam oot at broke o' day,

He'll always for his morning teuk

A quaich o' usquebae.

An' when wi' Eve he'll had a crack,

He'll teuk his sneeshin' horn,

An' on the tap ye'll well mitch mark

A pony praw Cairngorm.

The sneeshin' mull is fine, my friens —

The sneeshin' mull is gran';

We'll teukta hearty sneesh, my friens,

And pass frae han' to han'.

When man first fan the want o' claes,

The wind an' cauld to fleg.

He twisted roon' about his waist

The tartan philabeg.

An' music first on earth was heard

In Gaelic accents deep,

When Jubal in his oxter squeezed

The blether o' a sheep.

The praw bagpipes is gran', my friens,

The praw bagpipes is fine;

We'll teukta nother pibroch yet,

For the days o' auld lang syne!

JOHN ALCOHOL, my foe, John,

When we were first acquaint,

I'd siller in my pockets, John,

Which noo, ye ken, I want;

I spent it all in treating, John,

Because I loved you so;

But mark ye, how you've treated me,

John Alcohol, my foe.

John Alcohol, my foe, John,

We've been ower lang together,

Sae ye maun tak' ae road, John,

And I will take anither;

Foe we maun tumble down, John,

If hand in hand we go;

And I shall hae the bill to pay,

John Alcohol, my foe.

John Alcohol, my foe, John,

Ye've blear'd out a' my een,

And lighted up my nose, John,

A fiery sign atween!

My hands wi' palsy shake, John,

My locks are like the snow;

Ye'll surely be the death of me,

John Alcohol, my foe.

John Alcohol, my foe, John,

'Twas love to you, I ween,

That gart me rise sae ear', John,

And sit sae late at e'en;

The best o' friens maun part, John,

It grieves me sair, ye know;

But “we'll nae mair to yon town,"

John Alcohol, my foe.

John Alcohol, my foe, John,

Ye've wrought me muckle skaith,

And yet to part wi' you, John,

I own I'm unko' laith;

But I'll join the temperance ranks, John,

Ye needna say me no;

It's better late than ne'er do weel,

John Alcohol, my foe.

GIN a body meet a body

Flyin' through the air,

Gin a body hit a body,

Will it fly? and where?

Ilka impact has its measure,

Ne'er a' ane hae I,

Yet a' the lads they measure me,

Or, at least, they try.

Gin a body meet a body

Altogether free,

How they travel afterwards

We do not always see.

Ilka problem has its method

By analytics high;

For me, I ken na ane o' them,

But what the waur am I?