PRIDE
Did iver ye see the like o’ that?The warld’s fair fashioned to winder at!Heuch—dinna tell me! Yon’s Fishie PeteThat cried the haddies in Ferry StreetSet up wi’ his coats an’ his grand cigarsIn ane o’ they stinkin’ motor-cars!I mind the time (an’ it’s no far past)When he wasna for fleein’ alang sae fastAn’ doon i’ the causey his cairt wad standAs he roared oot “Haddies!” below his hand;Ye’d up wi’ yer windy an’ doon he’d loupFrae the shaft o’ the cairt by the sheltie’s doup[7].Aye, muckle cheenges an’ little sense,A bawbee’s wut an’ a poond’s pretence!For there’s him noo wi’ his neb to the skyI’ yon deil’s machinery swiggit[8]by,An’ me, that whiles gi’ed him a piece to eat,Tramps aye to the kirk on my ain twa feet.And, nee’bours, mind ye, the warld’s a-gleyOr we couldna see what we’ve seen the day,Guid fortune’s blate whaur she’s weel desairv’tThe sinner fu’ an’ the godly stairv’t,An’ fowk like me an’ my auld guidmanJist wearied, daein’ the best we can!I’ve kept my lips an’ my tongue frae guileAn’ kept mysel’ to mysel’ the while;Agin a’ wastrels I’ve aye been setAnd I’m no for seekin’ to thole them yet;A grand example I’ve been through life,A righteous liver, a thrifty wife.But oh! the he’rt o’ a body bleedsFor favours sclarried[9]on sinfu’ heids.Wait you a whilie! Ye needna thinkThey’ll no gang frae him wi’ cairds an’ drink!They’ll bring nae blessin’, they winna bide,For the warst sin, nee’bours, is pride, aye, pride!
FOOTNOTES:[7]Croup.[8]Swung, whirled.[9]Spilt.
[7]Croup.
[7]Croup.
[8]Swung, whirled.
[8]Swung, whirled.
[9]Spilt.
[9]Spilt.