THE BALLAD OF RABBIE BURNS - damowords
THE BALLAD OF RABBIE BURNS - damowords
THE BALLAD OF RABBIE BURNS - damowords
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But daily domesticity<br />
Beds rarely down with poetry<br />
For all muses dislike, plainly,<br />
Life’s irritations<br />
So Rab descends to apathy<br />
Denied sensations<br />
So to escape the suckling den<br />
He sought the company of men<br />
The whiskey glass replaced the pen<br />
In his right hand<br />
& when, returning to his hen,<br />
Could hardly stand<br />
For every yin there is a yang<br />
& Rab shall write a famous sang<br />
Out of the hoose, roving amang<br />
Galloway’s scenes<br />
Heard music far from chatt’rin thrang<br />
Of wife & weans<br />
“Scots, wha hae wi Wallace bled,<br />
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led<br />
Welcome to your gor bed<br />
Or to victorie<br />
FREE‐MAN lives or FREE‐MAN dead<br />
But they shall be free”<br />
& as a storm howl’d wind & sleet<br />
He drove across the heathy peat<br />
Into the old Gatehouse of Fleet<br />
To write it down<br />
Ale warming belly, fire his feet,<br />
Smile ousting frown ****
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