10 Best Famous Dang Poems

Here is a collection of the top 10 all-time best famous Dang poems. This is a select list of the best famous Dang poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Dang poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of dang poems.

• All Famous Dang Poems

 Heaven's mighty sweet, I guess;
Ain't no rush to git there:
Been a sinner, more or less;
Maybe wouldn't fit there.
Wicked still, bound to confess;
Might jest pine a bit there.

Heaven's swell, the preachers say:
Got so used to earth here;
Had such good times all the way,
Frolic, fun and mirth here;
Eighty Springs ago to-day,
Since I had my birth here.

Quite a spell of happy years.
Wish I could begin it;
Cloud and sunshine, laughter, tears,
Livin' every minute.
Women, too, the pretty dears;
Plenty of 'em in it.

Heaven! that's another tale.
Mightn't let me chew there.
Gotta have me pot of ale;
Would I like the brew there?
Maybe I'd get slack and stale -
No more chores to do there.

Here I weed the garden plot,
Scare the crows from pillage;
Simmer in the sun a lot,
Talk about the tillage.
Yarn of battles I have fought,
Greybeard of the village.

Heaven's mighty fine, I know . . . .
Still, it ain't so bad here.
See them maples all aglow;
Starlings seem so glad here:
I'll be mighty peeved to go,
Scrumptious times I've had here.

Lord, I know You'll understand.
With Your Light You'll lead me.
Though I'm not the pious brand,
I'm here when You need me.
Gosh! I know that HEAVEN'S GRAND,
But dang it! God, don't speed me.

 THE BAIRNS gat out wi’ an unco shout,
 The deuks dang o’er my daddie, O!
The fien-ma-care, quo’ the feirrie auld wife,
 He was but a paidlin’ body, O!
He paidles out, and he paidles in,
 An’ he paidles late and early, O!
This seven lang years I hae lien by his side,
 An’ he is but a fusionless carlie, O.


O haud your tongue, my feirrie auld wife,
 O haud your tongue, now Nansie, O:
I’ve seen the day, and sae hae ye,
 Ye wad na ben sae donsie, O.
I’ve seen the day ye butter’d my brose,
 And cuddl’d me late and early, O;
But downa-do’s come o’er me now,
 And oh, I find it sairly, O!

 Chorus—O aye my wife she dang me,
 An’ aft my wife she bang’d me,
If ye gie a woman a’ her will,
 Gude faith! she’ll soon o’er-gang ye.


ON peace an’ rest my mind was bent,
 And, fool I was! I married;
But never honest man’s intent
 Sane cursedly miscarried.
 O aye my wife, &c.


Some sairie comfort at the last,
 When a’ thir days are done, man,
My pains o’ hell on earth is past,
 I’m sure o’ bliss aboon, man,
 O aye my wife, &c.

 AMANG the trees, where humming bees,
 At buds and flowers were hinging, O,
Auld Caledon drew out her drone,
 And to her pipe was singing, O:
’Twas Pibroch, Sang, Strathspeys, and Reels,
 She dirl’d them aff fu’ clearly, O:
When there cam’ a yell o’ foreign squeels,
 That dang her tapsalteerie, O.


Their capon craws an’ ***** “ha, ha’s,”
 They made our lugs grow eerie, O;
The hungry bike did scrape and fyke,
 Till we were wae and weary, O:
But a royal ghaist, wha ance was cas’d,
 A prisoner, aughteen year awa’,
He fir’d a Fiddler in the North,
 That dang them tapsalteerie, O.