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22nd December 08, 06:40 AM
#41
 Originally Posted by duchessofnc
*Drips sarcasm* It's a hard job and someone has to do it?
I consider it to be a selfless sacrifice that I willingly offer in service to those in need. *Drips Sincerity*
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22nd December 08, 06:51 AM
#42
 Originally Posted by Uncle Ricky
I'll be taste testing the scotch. Got to make sure it's safe for the rest of you eh?
A selfless act to be sure. So I'll put you down to recite Scotch Drink then? ith:
Scotch Drink
1785
Type: Poem
Gie him strong drink until he wink,
That's sinking in despair;
An' liquor guid to fire his bluid,
That's prest wi' grief and care:
There let him bouse, an' deep carouse,
Wi' bumpers flowing o'er,
Till he forgets his loves or debts,
An' minds his griefs no more.
Solomon's Proverbs, xxxi. 6, 7.
Let other poets raise a fracas
"Bout vines, an' wines, an' drucken Bacchus,
An' crabbit names an'stories wrack us,
An' grate our lug:
I sing the juice Scotch bear can mak us,
In glass or jug.
O thou, my muse! guid auld Scotch drink!
Whether thro' wimplin worms thou jink,
Or, richly brown, ream owre the brink,
In glorious faem,
Inspire me, till I lisp an' wink,
To sing thy name!
Let husky wheat the haughs adorn,
An' aits set up their awnie horn,
An' pease and beans, at e'en or morn,
Perfume the plain:
Leeze me on thee, John Barleycorn,
Thou king o' grain!
On thee aft Scotland chows her cood,
In souple scones, the wale o'food!
Or tumblin in the boiling flood
Wi' kail an' beef;
But when thou pours thy strong heart's blood,
There thou shines chief.
Food fills the wame, an' keeps us leevin;
Tho' life's a gift no worth receivin,
When heavy-dragg'd wi' pine an' grievin;
But, oil'd by thee,
The wheels o' life gae down-hill, scrievin,
Wi' rattlin glee.
Thou clears the head o'doited Lear;
Thou cheers ahe heart o' drooping Care;
Thou strings the nerves o' Labour sair,
At's weary toil;
Though even brightens dark Despair
Wi' gloomy smile.
Aft, clad in massy siller weed,
Wi' gentles thou erects thy head;
Yet, humbly kind in time o' need,
The poor man's wine;
His weep drap parritch, or his bread,
Thou kitchens fine.
Thou art the life o' public haunts;
But thee, what were our fairs and rants?
Ev'n godly meetings o' the saunts,
By thee inspired,
When gaping they besiege the tents,
Are doubly fir'd.
That merry night we get the corn in,
O sweetly, then, thou reams the horn in!
Or reekin on a New-year mornin
In cog or bicker,
An' just a wee drap sp'ritual burn in,
An' gusty sucker!
When Vulcan gies his bellows breath,
An' ploughmen gather wi' their graith,
O rare! to see thee fizz an freath
I' th' luggit caup!
Then Burnewin comes on like death
At every chap.
Nae mercy then, for airn or steel;
The brawnie, banie, ploughman chiel,
Brings hard owrehip, wi' sturdy wheel,
The strong forehammer,
Till block an' studdie ring an reel,
Wi' dinsome clamour.
When skirling weanies see the light,
Though maks the gossips clatter bright,
How fumblin' cuiffs their dearies slight;
Wae worth the name!
Nae howdie gets a social night,
Or plack frae them.
When neibors anger at a plea,
An' just as wud as wud can be,
How easy can the barley brie
Cement the quarrel!
It's aye the cheapest lawyer's fee,
To taste the barrel.
Alake! that e'er my muse has reason,
To wyte her countrymen wi' treason!
But mony daily weet their weason
Wi' liquors nice,
An' hardly, in a winter season,
E'er Spier her price.
Wae worth that brandy, burnin trash!
Fell source o' mony a pain an' brash!
Twins mony a poor, doylt, drucken hash,
O' half his days;
An' sends, beside, auld Scotland's cash
To her warst faes.
Ye Scots, wha wish auld Scotland well!
Ye chief, to you my tale I tell,
Poor, plackless devils like mysel'!
It sets you ill,
Wi' bitter, dearthfu' wines to mell,
Or foreign gill.
May gravels round his blather wrench,
An' gouts torment him, inch by inch,
What twists his gruntle wi' a glunch
O' sour disdain,
Out owre a glass o' whisky-punch
Wi' honest men!
O Whisky! soul o' plays and pranks!
Accept a bardie's gratfu' thanks!
When wanting thee, what tuneless cranks
Are my poor verses!
Thou comes-they rattle in their ranks,
At ither's a-s!
Thee, Ferintosh! O sadly lost!
Scotland lament frae coast to coast!
Now colic grips, an' barkin hoast
May kill us a';
For loyal Forbes' charter'd boast
Is ta'en awa?
Thae curst horse-leeches o' the' Excise,
Wha mak the whisky stells their prize!
Haud up thy han', Deil! ance, twice, thrice!
There, seize the blinkers!
An' bake them up in brunstane pies
For poor damn'd drinkers.
Fortune! if thou'll but gie me still
Hale breeks, a scone, an' whisky gill,
An' rowth o' rhyme to rave at will,
Tak a' the rest,
An' deal't about as thy blind skill
Directs thee best.
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22nd December 08, 10:08 AM
#43
 Originally Posted by McMurdo
A selfless act to be sure. So I'll put you down to recite Scotch Drink then?  ith:
Scotch Drink
1785
Type: Poem
Gie him strong drink until he wink,
***** snip ****
Tak a' the rest,
An' deal't about as thy blind skill
Directs thee best.
Glen, dear boy, I don't quote, I Quaff.
Cheers
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22nd December 08, 11:42 AM
#44
I second Glen on this one, Uncle Ricky. You would be perfect to recite The Scotch Drink poem. You should definitely do it! *polishes angelic halo*
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22nd December 08, 02:54 PM
#45
Well Duchess, and Glen, I might be willing to read said poem. But it would be on the understanding that it would be done with my very bad fake exaggerated Scottish accent, tongue well in cheek. I don't think I could get through it without interjecting some commentary from time to time.
If you think you can stand all that, I'll give it a go.
Cheers
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22nd December 08, 03:00 PM
#46
Well I know I wouldn't mind. Besides I'm the one doing the response from the lassies. You have no idea how warped my sense of humor is when it comes to the kilt.
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22nd December 08, 03:00 PM
#47
I say go for it Laddie, of course as with most Burns Suppers reading it with your own flair is not only expected but encouraged.
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22nd December 08, 03:06 PM
#48
That's what I keep repeating over and over as I work on my response from the lassies.
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22nd December 08, 03:06 PM
#49
Done.
As a former musician in a Scottish dance band, I claim the right to take the mickey out of everything Scottish. Except of course, Scotch.
Cheers
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27th December 08, 09:42 PM
#50
Bump again
I was wondering how everyone is doing with their pieces, The Address, The toast to the Lasses, etc. Also if anyone else is planning to come, it would be great to have an idea of how many will be present, thanks.
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