OOh! An opportunity to recite my favourite poem by Burns.
From 1795 (frankly given the attitude towards the aristocracy in this poem, I'm surprised he wasn't hanged!)
Is there for honest Poverty
That hings his head, an' a' that;
The coward slave-we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a' that!
For a' that, an' a' that.
Our toils obscure an' a' that,
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The Man's the gowd for a' that.
What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin grey, an' a that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine;
A Man's a Man for a' that:
For a' that, and a' that,
Their tinsel show, an' a' that;
The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.
Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that;
Tho' hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for a' that:
For a' that, an' a' that,
His ribband, star, an' a' that:
The man o' independent mind
He looks an' laughs at a' that.
A prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, an' a' that;
But an honest man's abon his might,
Gude faith, he maunna fa' that!
For a' that, an' a' that,
Their dignities an' a' that;
The pith o' sense, an' pride o' worth,
Are higher rank than a' that.
Then let us pray that come it may,
(As come it will for a' that,)
That Sense and Worth, o'er a' the earth,
Shall bear the gree, an' a' that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
It's coming yet for a' that,
That Man to Man, the world o'er,
Shall brothers be for a' that.
| StefG | 67 | January 24, 2012 08:59PM |
 Well done!
Well done indeed!
Quote
StefG
From 1795 (frankly given the attitude towards the aristocracy in this poem, I'm surprised he wasn't hanged!)
Indeed.  It wouldn't surprise me to learn that it was considered, at the highest level.  But
hangin' the Ploughman Poet would have been a disaster for the Brits.
Given the regard in which Rabbie has come to be held by the Sons Of
Caledonia, just think what it would have been had he been martyred! And,
after all A Man is a Man for a' that.  BTW, this is by no means the only Burns' work that could considered controversial... Quote
Robert Burns
Libel Summons
IN truth and honour's name.-Amen.
Know all men by these presents plain,
The fourth of June, at Mauchline given,
The year 'tween eighty five and seven;
We Fornicators by profession,
As by extraction from each session,
In way and manner here narrated,
Pro bono amor congregated,
Are by our brethren constituted,
A court of equity deputed:
With special authoriz'd direction,
To take beneath our strict inspection,
The stays unlacing quondam maiden,
With growing life, and anguish laden,
Who by the rascal is denied,
That led her thoughtless steps aside;
The wretch who can refuse assistance,
To them whom he has given existence,
He who when at a lass's by-job,
Defrauds her wi' a frig or dry-bob,
The coof who stands on clish ma claver,
When lasses haflins offer favour;
All who in ony way and manner,
Disdain the Fornicators honour,
We take cognizance there anent,
The proper judges competent.
First, poet BURNS he takes the chair,
Allow'd by all his title's fair,
And pass'd nem con without dissention,
He has a duplicate pretension.
Next merchant Smith, our worthy fiscal,
To cow each pertinacious rascal,
In this as every other state,
His merit is conspicuous great.
Richmond, the third, our worthy clerk,
Our minutes regular to mark,
A fit dispenser of the law,
In absence of the ither twa.
And fourth, our messenger at arms,
When failing a' the milder terms;-
Hunter, a willing hearty brither,
Weel skill'd in dead and living leather.
Without preamble, less or mair said,
We body politic aforesaid,
Wi' legal due whereas, and wherefore,
Are thus appointed here to care for,
At the instance of our constituents,
To punish contraversing truants;
Keeping a proper regulation,
Within the lists of Fornication.
Then, first, our fiscal by petition
Informs us, there is strong suspicion
That Coachman Dow, and Clocky Brown,
Baith residenters in this town;
In other words, you Jock and Sandy,
Hae been at warks of Houghmagandy,
And now when facts are come to light,
The matter ye deny outright.
First, Clocky Brown, there's witness borne,
And affidavit made and sworn,
Ae evening of the Mauchline fair,
That Jeanie's masts there were seen bare,
For ye had furl'd up her sails,
And was at play at heads and tails;
That ye hae made a hurly burly,
About Jean Mitchell's tirly whorly;
That ye here pendulum tried to alter,
And grizzled at her regulator;
And further still, ye cruel vandal,
A tale might even in hell be scandal;
That ye hae made repeated trials,
Wi' dregs and drugs, in doctor's vials,
Just as ye thought, wi' full infusion,
Your ain begotten wean to poison;
An' yet ye are sae scant o' grace,
As dared to lift your brazen face,
And offered to gie your aith,
Ye never lifted Jeanie's claith.
Next, Sandy Dow, ye are indicted,
To hae as publicly been wyted,
For clandestinely upward whorlan,
The petticoats o' Maggy Borland,
An' gae her cannister a rattle,
That months to come it winna settle,
And yet ye rascal ye protest,
Ye never herried Maggy's nest,
Tho' it's weel ken'd, that at her gavel,
Ye hae gi'en mony a ketch an' kavel.
Then, Brown an' Dow, above design'd,
For clags an' claims therein subjoin'd,
The court aforesaid, cite and summon,
That on the fourth of July cumin',
The hour of cause, at our court ha'
At Whiteford's arms, ye'll answer a';
Exculpate proof ye needna bring,
For we've due notice o' the thing,
But as reluctantly we punish,
And rather mildly would admonish,
We for that ancient secret sake,
You have the honour to partake,
An' for that noble badge you wear,-
You, Sandy Dow, our brother dear,
We give you as a man an' mason,
This serious, sober, friendly lesson,
Your crime a manly deed we verit,
As man alone can only do it;
But in denial persevering,
Is to a scoundrel's name adhering;
Far best confess, and join our core,
As be reproach'd for ever more;
The best o' men hae been surpris'd,
The dousest women been advis'd,
The cleverest lads hae had a trick o't,
The bonniest lasses ta'en a lick o't;
Kings hae been proud our name to own,
The brightest jewel in their crown;
The rhyming sons o' bleak Parnassus,
Were ay red wood about the lasses,
And saul and body, all would venture,
Rejoicing in our list to enter;
E'en (wha wad trow't,) the cleric order,
Aft slyly break the hallow'd border,
An' show in proper time an' place,
They are as ascant o' boasted grace,
As ony o' the human race.
Then, brother Dow, be not asham'd,
In sic a quorum to be nam'd,
But lift a dauntless brow upon it,
An' say I am the man has done it,-
I, Sandy Dow, got Meg wi' bairn,
An' fit to do as much again.
For you, John Brown, we gie ye notice,
So deep, so great, so black, your faut is,
Without ye by a quick repentance,
Acknowledge your's and Jean's acquaintance,
Remember this shall be your sentence:-
Our Beagles to the cross shall tak' ye,
And there shall mither naked mak' ye;
A rape they round the rump shall tak',
An' tye your hands behind your back,
Wi' joost an ell o' string allow'd,
To jink and hid ye frae the crowd;
Then shall ye stand a lawfu' seizure,
Induring Jeanine Mitchell's pleasure,
So be her pleasure don't surpass,
Five turnings o' a hauf hour glass;
Nor shall it in her pleasure be,
To turn you loose in less then three.
This our futurum esse decreet,
We mean not to be kept a secret,
But in our summons here insert it,
And whoso dare let him subvert it;
This mark'd above, the date and place is,
Sigillum est, per Burns the preses;
This summons wi' the signet mark,
Extractum est, per Richmond clerk;
At Mauchline idem, date of June,
'Tween four an' five i' the afternoon,
You twa in propria personae,
Before design'd, Sandy and Johnny,
This summons legally you've got,
As vide witness under wrote,
Within the house of John Dow, vintner,
Nunc facia hog Gulielmus Hunter.
  | Ricky Lee | 41 | January 25, 2012 05:02AM |
