The Wooin' O' Tummas

A poem by John Kendall

After R. B.


Tummas Katt cam' roun' to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooin' o't;
Lichtly sang ta lang nicht thro',
Ha, ha, the mewin' o't;
Tabbie, winsome, tim'rous beast,
Speakit: 'Tummas, hand tha' weist!
Girt auld Tummas 'gan inseest;
Ha, ha, the doin' o't!

Tabbie laucht, an' brawly fleired,
Ha, ha, the fleirin' o't;
Tummas, - ech! but Tummas speired
Ha, ha, the speirin' o't;
Sic an awesome, fearfu' screep,
Wakin' a' aroun' frae sleep;
Fegs, it gar'd the Gudeman weep!
Ha, ha, the hearin' o't!

Quoth the Gudeman: 'Dairm his een!'
Ha, ha, the swearin' o't;
'Muckle fasht was I yestreen,
A' thro' the bearin' o't!
Ere the sonsie moon was bricht,
Clean awa' till mornin' licht,
Mickle sleep was mine the nicht;
Ha, ha, the wearin' o't!'

'Where are noo ma booties twa?
Ha, ha, the stoppin' o't;
'Tis mysel' shall gar him fa';
Ha, ha, the coppin' o't!
'Gin a bootie, strang an' stoot,
Sneckit Tummas roun' ta snoot,
Winna Tummas gang frae oot?
Ha, ha, the droppin' o't!'

Swuft the pawky booties came,
Ha, ha, the flittin' o't:
Tummas scraught, an' lit for hame,
Ha, ha, the spittin' o't;
Lauchit Tabbs to see him fa';
Leapit frae ta gairden wa';
Quoth the Gudeman: 'Dairm it a'!
What price the hittin' o't?'

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