Document 639
Dipper: 27 - The Lassies
Author(s): Dr James A Begg
Copyright holder(s): Dr James A Begg
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Ye men, wha think ye're God's anyntit,
Tae rule the roost by Him apyntit,
An rule the warld, if ye've a mind t' it,
An craw sae crouse;
Hark nou - ye'll sair be disappyntit,
Gin I cook yer goose!
I’ faith, I think ye ken whit's comin,
For Weemin's Lib hae deived ye, drummin
That 'hint ilk man there stauns a wumman
- Sae wyce an douce -
That evidence richt nou I'll summon
- An let it loose!
Wee hungert bairn, aicht pun at least,
Bawlin awa like muckle beast,
Till a soukin mou grups ticht her breist,
An ye draw thegither;
Whaur had ye gotten sic a feast
- Forbye yer Mither?
Wha chynged yer nappies, bonny wean,
An mony a waukrife nicht has lain,
As ye girnt awa wi grippin pain
O colic bad?
That tentie sowl, it gaes wi'oot sayin
- Wis no yer Dad!
An as ye grew, an skint yer knees,
Or hame frae schule ye'd come wi fleas,
Whan snotters flew wi every sneeze,
Wha'd dicht ye clean?
- Ne'er ance did Faither - (at his ease)
Himsel demean!
An throu thon lang het simmer weeks,
Whan lads ran free wi girrs an cleeks,
Ye'd tear the erse whiles oot yer breeks,
On trees an busses;
Wha'd shew them up tae hide yer 'cheeks'
- An spare yer blushes?
Mind, wha wis't then gied lads a pree,
O joys o life that were tae be,
As gethert roun wi boyish glee,
An smirks an snickers;
They haunstauns did, for aa tae see
- Their navy knickers?
There's mair tae come, if ye'd but listen,
For wha, wi rosy lips a-glisten,
Garrd lads fin oot whit they'd been missin,
(For aa their talk!)
Wi birlin heids frae aa that kissin
- At Postman's Knock?
Syne whiles at Pairties, whiles at Dances,
Lads stuid aroun the waas like pansies,
Ilk ane e'ein up the lass he fancies,
But feart tae stert;
O mony a callant's tint his chances,
For want o hert!
Whit cantraip's this maks men o muscle,
Wha wi bricks an timmer tussle,
Heich abune the City's bustle,
As traffic passes,
Tae doun their graith, an staun an whustle,
At bonny lassies?
- Maks laddies sclim the heichest trees,
Or in the cauld Antarctic freeze,
Or sail across the stormy seas,
Tae win the land,
Then blate, gae doun on bendit knees,
Tae ask her haund.
Nae man can tell juist whit beguiles,
There's some wad caa it Weemin's Wiles,
An blame it aa on Fashion's styles,
That turn oor heids;
But aye the wyce-like lassie smiles,
An tends oor needs.
There's aye a freshly laundert sark,
Spotless white, withoot a mark,
Oor meat's aye ready efter dark,
If late we're hame;
But is she ready for a lark?
- It's aye the same!
In single beds there's some wha swank it,
Wi piggy, or electric blanket,
But better faur, an Lord be thankit,
If these ye lack!
Whaur else suid icy feet be plankit
- Nor a saft, warm back!
Yet still an aa, we maunna grummle,
Whan kists an tubes begin tae rummle,
An intae bed we tak a tummle,
Wi cauld or flu;
Tho juist anent Daith's Door we trimmle
- She'll pou us throu!
Still, mind ye lads, it maks ye think,
While slavin ower the kitchen sink,
Nae wunner weemin tak tae drink,
Tae lowse their chains,
As aa their dreams o jewels an mink,
Gang doun the drains!
But nou's their Day o Liberation,
Aflame wi richteous indignation,
They've risen frae their hummle station
- As weel we've seen;
A Wumman even rules the Nation
- An it's no the Queen!
Wha else wad wrap us roun her finger,
Shove us heid-furst throu the wringer,
Or in a flamin temper swing ‘er
Rollin-peen,
An skelp us wi a real humdinger
- Atween the een!
Aa roun aboot the roles are switchin,
Nou faithers plowter in the kitchen,
Daein aa the cairryin an fetchin,
(Whit dreary lives!)
Wi a guidsicht mair o girnin, bitchin,
Than did their wives!
If truth be tellt, we're on the spot,
(The hale stramash is aye oor faut)
An weel deserved whit e'er we got,
As like as no;
Deep doun we ken they're no a bad lot
- 'S faur's weemin go!
Tak mithers, sisters, dochters braw,
Grannies, aunts, e'en mithers-in-law,
Guid-sisters, kizzens, nieces aa,
Frae faur an near;
Tho they micht aiblins threip awa
- We lou them dear!
Guid men, cast Prejudice aside,
An niver true Emotion hide
Frae the gentle wumman by yer side,
But chairge yer tassies;
An rise wi deep, respectfu Pride
- Tae toast 'The Lassies'!
___
crouse/bold
deived/deafened
soukin/sucking
waukrife/sleepless
tentie/attentive
dicht/wipe
girr/iron hoop
shew/sew
callant/youth
cantraip/spell
timmer/timber
sclim/climb
meat/food
piggy/earthenware hot-water bottle
kist/chest
skelp/smack
plowter/splash aimlessly
stramash/squabble
guid-sister/sister-in-law
threip/harp on
tassies/goblets
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APA Style:
Dipper: 27 - The Lassies. 2024. In The Scottish Corpus of Texts & Speech. Glasgow: University of Glasgow. Retrieved 21 November 2024, from http://www.scottishcorpus.ac.uk/document/?documentid=639.
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"Dipper: 27 - The Lassies." The Scottish Corpus of Texts & Speech. Glasgow: University of Glasgow, 2024. Web. 21 November 2024. http://www.scottishcorpus.ac.uk/document/?documentid=639.
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