Vulgar words in Poems and Songs of Robert Burns (Page 1)
This book at a glance
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~ ~ ~ Sentence 435 ~ ~ ~
Epitaph On John Rankine Ae day, as Death, that gruesome carl, Was driving to the tither warl' A mixtie--maxtie motley squad, And mony a guilt-bespotted lad-- Black gowns of each denomination, And thieves of every rank and station, From him that wears the star and garter, To him that wintles in a halter: Ashamed himself to see the wretches, He mutters, glowrin at the bitches, "By God I'll not be seen behint them, Nor 'mang the sp'ritual core present them, Without, at least, ae honest man, To grace this damn'd infernal clan!"
~ ~ ~ Sentence 469 ~ ~ ~
The Twa Herds; Or, The Holy Tulyie An Unco Mournfu' Tale "Blockheads with reason wicked wits abhor, But fool with fool is barbarous civil war,"--Pope.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 612 ~ ~ ~
"See, here's a scythe, an' there's dart, They hae pierc'd mony a gallant heart; But Doctor Hornbook, wi' his art An' cursed skill, Has made them baith no worth a f-t, Damn'd haet they'll kill!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 629 ~ ~ ~
"That's just a swatch o' Hornbook's way; Thus goes he on from day to day, Thus does he poison, kill, an' slay, An's weel paid for't; Yet stops me o' my lawfu' prey, Wi' his damn'd dirt: "But, hark!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 650 ~ ~ ~
O for a spunk o' Allan's glee, Or Fergusson's the bauld an' slee, Or bright Lapraik's, my friend to be, If I can hit it!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 786 ~ ~ ~
Here stands a shed to fend the show'rs, An' screen our countra gentry; There Racer Jess,^2 an' twa-three whores, Are blinkin at the entry.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,061 ~ ~ ~
Recitativo The caird prevail'd--th' unblushing fair In his embraces sunk; Partly wi' love o'ercome sae sair, An' partly she was drunk: Sir Violino, with an air That show'd a man o' spunk, Wish'd unison between the pair, An' made the bottle clunk To their health that night.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,249 ~ ~ ~
An' bake them up in brunstane pies For poor damn'd drinkers.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,311 ~ ~ ~
There, at Vienna, or Versailles, He rives his father's auld entails; Or by Madrid he takes the rout, To thrum guitars an' fecht wi' nowt; Or down Italian vista startles, Whore-hunting amang groves o' myrtles: Then bowses drumlie German-water, To mak himsel look fair an' fatter, An' clear the consequential sorrows, Love-gifts of Carnival signoras.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,328 ~ ~ ~
Ae night they're mad wi' drink an' whoring, Niest day their life is past enduring.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,338 ~ ~ ~
Your Honours' hearts wi' grief 'twad pierce, To see her sittin on her arse Low i' the dust, And scriechinhout prosaic verse, An like to brust!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,346 ~ ~ ~
Paint Scotland greetin owre her thrissle; Her mutchkin stowp as toom's a whissle; An' damn'd excisemen in a bussle, Seizin a stell, Triumphant crushin't like a mussel, Or limpet shell!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,355 ~ ~ ~
Dempster,^3 a true blue Scot I'se warran'; Thee, aith-detesting, chaste Kilkerran;^4 An' that glib-gabbit Highland baron, The Laird o' Graham;^5 An' ane, a chap that's damn'd aulfarran', Dundas his name:^6 Erskine, a spunkie Norland billie;^7 True Campbells, Frederick and Ilay;^8 [Footnote 2: James Boswell of Auchinleck, the biographer of Johnson.]
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,409 ~ ~ ~
Come, let a proper text be read, An' touch it aff wi' vigour, How graceless Ham^5 leugh at his dad, Which made Canaan a nigger; Or Phineas^6 drove the murdering blade, Wi' whore-abhorring rigour; Or Zipporah,^7 the scauldin jad, Was like a bluidy tiger I' th' inn that day.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,445 ~ ~ ~
If mair they deave us wi' their din, Or Patronage intrusion, We'll light a spunk, and ev'ry skin, We'll rin them aff in fusion Like oil, some day.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,459 ~ ~ ~
The star that rules my luckless lot, Has fated me the russet coat, An' damn'd my fortune to the groat; But, in requit, Has blest me with a random-shot O'countra wit.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,514 ~ ~ ~
I started, mutt'ring, "blockhead!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,645 ~ ~ ~
But ance, when in my wooing pride I, like a blockhead, boost to ride, The wilfu' creature sae I pat to, (Lord pardon a' my sins, an' that too!)
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,648 ~ ~ ~
The fourth's a Highland Donald hastle, A damn'd red-wud Kilburnie blastie!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,858 ~ ~ ~
An' if the wives an' dirty brats Come thiggin at your doors an' yetts, Flaffin wi' duds, an' grey wi' beas', Frightin away your ducks an' geese; Get out a horsewhip or a jowler, The langest thong, the fiercest growler, An' gar the tatter'd gypsies pack Wi' a' their bastards on their back!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,911 ~ ~ ~
No--stretch a point to catch a plack: Abuse a brother to his back; Steal through the winnock frae a whore, But point the rake that taks the door; Be to the poor like ony whunstane, And haud their noses to the grunstane; Ply ev'ry art o' legal thieving; No matter--stick to sound believing.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,912 ~ ~ ~
Learn three-mile pray'rs, an' half-mile graces, Wi' weel-spread looves, an' lang, wry faces; Grunt up a solemn, lengthen'd groan, And damn a' parties but your own; I'll warrant they ye're nae deceiver, A steady, sturdy, staunch believer.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 1,974 ~ ~ ~
The poor man weeps--here Gavin sleeps, Whom canting wretches blam'd; But with such as he, where'er he be, May I be sav'd or damn'd!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 2,135 ~ ~ ~
Nae langer rev'rend men, their country's glory, In plain braid Scots hold forth a plain braid story; Nae langer thrifty citizens, an' douce, Meet owre a pint, or in the Council-house; But staumrel, corky-headed, graceless Gentry, The herryment and ruin of the country; Men, three-parts made by tailors and by barbers, Wha waste your weel-hain'd gear on damn'd new brigs and harbours!"
~ ~ ~ Sentence 2,148 ~ ~ ~
Epigram On Rough Roads I'm now arrived--thanks to the gods!-- Thro' pathways rough and muddy, A certain sign that makin roads Is no this people's study: Altho' Im not wi' Scripture cram'd, I'm sure the Bible says That heedless sinners shall be damn'd, Unless they mend their ways.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 2,506 ~ ~ ~
In a MS., where I met the answer, I wrote below:-- With Esop's lion, Burns says: Sore I feel Each other's scorn, but damn that ass' heel!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 2,756 ~ ~ ~
The red peat gleams, a fiery kernel, Enhusked by a fog infernal: Here, for my wonted rhyming raptures, I sit and count my sins by chapters; For life and spunk like ither Christians, I'm dwindled down to mere existence, Wi' nae converse but Gallowa' bodies, Wi' nae kenn'd face but Jenny Geddes, Jenny, my Pegasean pride!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 2,915 ~ ~ ~
appll'd I venture on the name, Those cut-throat bandits in the paths of fame, Bloody dissectors, worse than ten Monroes, He hacks to teach, they mangle to expose: By blockhead's daring into madness stung, His heart by wanton, causeless malice wrung, His well-won ways--than life itself more dear-- By miscreants torn who ne'er one sprig must wear; Foil'd, bleeding, tortur'd in th' unequal strife, The hapless Poet flounces on through life, Till, fled each hope that once his bosom fired, And fled each Muse that glorious once inspir'd, Low-sunk in squalid, unprotected age, Dead even resentment for his injur'd page, He heeds no more the ruthless critics' rage.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 3,164 ~ ~ ~
Of Eve's first fire he has a cinder; Auld Tubalcain's fire-shool and fender; That which distinguished the gender O' Balaam's ass: A broomstick o' the witch of Endor, Weel shod wi' brass.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 3,185 ~ ~ ~
rumble John, mount the steps with a groan, Cry the book is with heresy cramm'd; Then out wi' your ladle, deal brimstone like aidle, And roar ev'ry note of the damn'd.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 3,186 ~ ~ ~
Rumble John!^6 And roar ev'ry note of the damn'd.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 3,469 ~ ~ ~
Or if bare arses yet were tax'd; The news o' princes, dukes, and earls, Pimps, sharpers, bawds, and opera-girls; If that daft buckie, Geordie Wales, Was threshing still at hizzies' tails; Or if he was grown oughtlins douser, And no a perfect kintra cooser: A' this and mair I never heard of; And, but for you, I might despair'd of.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 3,499 ~ ~ ~
curst wi' eternal fogs, And damn'd in everlasting bogs, As sure's the creed I'll blunder!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 3,773 ~ ~ ~
Sir Reynard daily heard debates Of Princes', Kings', and Nations' fates, With many rueful, bloody stories Of Tyrants, Jacobites, and Tories: From liberty how angels fell, That now are galley-slaves in hell; How Nimrod first the trade began Of binding Slavery's chains on Man; How fell Semiramis--God damn her!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 3,922 ~ ~ ~
Critics--appall'd, I venture on the name; Those cut-throat bandits in the paths of fame: Bloody dissectors, worse than ten Monroes; He hacks to teach, they mangle to expose: His heart by causeless wanton malice wrung, By blockheads' daring into madness stung; His well-won bays, than life itself more dear, By miscreants torn, who ne'er one sprig must wear; Foil'd, bleeding, tortur'd in th' unequal strife, The hapless Poet flounders on thro' life: Till, fled each hope that once his bosom fir'd, And fled each muse that glorious once inspir'd, Low sunk in squalid, unprotected age, Dead even resentment for his injur'd page, He heeds or feels no more the ruthless critic's rage!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 4,051 ~ ~ ~
He's carried her hame to his ain hallan door, Hey, and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme; Syne bade her gae in, for a bitch, and a whore, And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 4,262 ~ ~ ~
And longer with Politics not to be cramm'd, Be Anarchy curs'd, and Tyranny damn'd!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 4,284 ~ ~ ~
Then let us fight about, Dumourier; Then let us fight about, Dumourier; Then let us fight about, Till Freedom's spark be out, Then we'll be damn'd, no doubt, Dumourier.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 4,506 ~ ~ ~
Epitaph For Mr. Walter Riddell Sic a reptile was Wat, sic a miscreant slave, That the worms ev'n damn'd him when laid in his grave; "In his flesh there's a famine," a starved reptile cries, "And his heart is rank poison!" another replies.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 4,507 ~ ~ ~
Epistle From Esopus To Maria From those drear solitudes and frowsy cells, Where Infamy with sad Repentance dwells; Where turnkeys make the jealous portal fast, And deal from iron hands the spare repast; Where truant 'prentices, yet young in sin, Blush at the curious stranger peeping in; Where strumpets, relics of the drunken roar, Resolve to drink, nay, half, to whore, no more; Where tiny thieves not destin'd yet to swing, Beat hemp for others, riper for the string: From these dire scenes my wretched lines I date, To tell Maria her Esopus' fate.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 4,664 ~ ~ ~
On An Innkeeper Nicknamed "The Marquis" Here lies a mock Marquis, whose titles were shamm'd, If ever he rise, it will be to be damn'd.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 4,977 ~ ~ ~
The wretch that would a tyrant own, And the wretch, his true-born brother, Who would set the Mob aboon the Throne, May they be damn'd together!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 5,101 ~ ~ ~
This Hal for genius, wit and lore, Among the first was number'd; But pious Bob, 'mid learning's store, Commandment the tenth remember'd: Yet simple Bob the victory got, And wan his heart's desire, Which shews that heaven can boil the pot, Tho' the devil piss in the fire.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 5,117 ~ ~ ~
Poor Man, the flie, aft bizzes by, And aft, as chance he comes thee nigh, Thy damn'd auld elbow yeuks wi'joy And hellish pleasure!
~ ~ ~ Sentence 6,115 ~ ~ ~
Hizzie, a hussy, a wench.
~ ~ ~ Sentence 6,753 ~ ~ ~
Spunk, a match; a spark; fire, spirit.