Famous Tither Poems by Famous Poets

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...den duty
To warn you how that Master Tootie,
 Alias, Laird M’Gaun,
Was here to hire yon lad away
’Bout whom ye spak the tither day,
 An’ wad hae don’t aff han’;
But lest he learn the callan tricks—
 An’ faith I muckle doubt him—
Like scrapin out auld Crummie’s nicks,
 An’ tellin lies about them;
 As lieve then, I’d have then
 Your clerkship he should sair,
 If sae be ye may be
 Not fitted otherwhere.


Altho’ I say’t, he’s gleg enough,
An’ ’bout a house that’s rude an’ rough,...Read more of this...

...acre braid!
Now ev’ry auld wife, greetin, clatters
 “Tam Samson’s dead!”


Owre mony a weary hag he limpit,
An’ aye the tither shot he thumpit,
Till coward Death behind him jumpit,
 Wi’ deadly feid;
Now he proclaims wi’ tout o’ trumpet,
 “Tam Samson’s dead!”


When at his heart he felt the dagger,
He reel’d his wonted bottle-swagger,
But yet he drew the mortal trigger,
 Wi’ weel-aimed heed;
“L—d, five!” he cry’d, an’ owre did stagger—
 Tam Samson’s dead!


Ilk hoary hunter mo...Read more of this...

...
 A man I reckon’d was,
An’ wi’ the lave ilk merry morn
 Could rank my rig and lass,
 Still shearing, and clearing
 The tither stooked raw,
 Wi’ claivers, an’ haivers,
 Wearing the day awa.


E’en then, a wish, (I mind its pow’r),
A wish that to my latest hour
 Shall strongly heave my breast,
That I for poor auld Scotland’s sake
Some usefu’ plan or book could make,
 Or sing a sang at least.
The rough burr-thistle, spreading wide
 Amang the bearded bear,
I turn’d the weeder-cl...Read more of this...

...s ae puir pund o’ tow.
 The weary pund, &c.


There sat a bottle in a bole,
 Beyont the ingle low;
And aye she took the tither souk,
 To drouk the stourie tow.
 The weary pund, &c.


Quoth I, For shame, ye dirty dame,
 Gae spin your tap o’ tow!
She took the rock, and wi’ a knock,
 She brak it o’er my pow.
 The weary pund, &c.


At last her feet—I sang to see’t!
 Gaed foremost o’er the knowe,
And or I wad anither jad,
 I’ll wallop in a tow.
 The weary pund, &c....Read more of this...

...oggam, my dearie, ruffum.


They laid the twa i’ the bed thegither,
 Scroggam;
That the heat o’ the tane might cool the tither;
 Sing auld Cowl, lay ye down by me,
 Scroggam, my dearie, ruffum....Read more of this...

...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 G—d I’ll not be seen behint them,
Nor ’mang the sp’ritual cor...Read more of this...

...revile, and scorn me.


I ne’er could lend on bill or band,
 That five per cent. might blest me;
And borrowing, on the tither hand,
 The deil a ane wad trust me.


Yet I, a coin-deni?d wight,
 By Fortune quite discarded;
Ye see how I am, day and night,
 By lad and lass blackguarded!...Read more of this...

...doxy lay within his arm;
Wi’ usquebae an’ blankets warm
 She blinkit on her sodger;
An’ aye he gies the tozie drab
 The tither skelpin’ kiss,
While she held up her greedy gab,
 Just like an aumous dish;
 Ilk smack still, did crack still,
 Just like a cadger’s whip;
 Then staggering an’ swaggering
 He roar’d this ditty up—


AirTune—“Soldier’s Joy.”I am a son of Mars who have been in many wars,
 And show my cuts and scars wherever I come;
This here was for a wench, and that ot...Read more of this...

...ed tyke, tho’ e’er sae duddie,
But he wad stan’t, as glad to see him,
An’ stroan’t on stanes an’ hillocks wi’ him.
 The tither was a ploughman’s collie—
A rhyming, ranting, raving billie,
Wha for his friend an’ comrade had him,
And in freak had Luath ca’d him,
After some dog in Highland Sang, 2
Was made lang syne,—Lord knows how lang.
 He was a gash an’ faithfu’ tyke,
As ever lap a sheugh or dyke.
His honest, sonsie, baws’nt face
Aye gat him friends in ilka place;
His breast ...Read more of this...

...An’ d—mn’d excisemen in a bussle,
 Seizin a stell,
Triumphant crushin’t like a mussel,
 Or limpet shell!


Then, on the tither hand present her—
A blackguard smuggler right behint her,
An’ cheek-for-chow, a chuffie vintner
 Colleaguing join,
Picking her pouch as bare as winter
 Of a’ kind coin.


Is there, that bears the name o’ Scot,
But feels his heart’s bluid rising hot,
To see his poor auld mither’s pot
 Thus dung in staves,
An’ plunder’d o’ her hindmost groat
 By gallows...Read more of this...

...We never had sic twa drones;
Auld Hornie did the Laigh Kirk watch,
 Just like a winkin baudrons,
And aye he catch’d the tither wretch,
 To fry them in his caudrons;
But now his Honour maun detach,
 Wi’ a’ his brimstone squadrons,
 Fast, fast this day.


See, see auld Orthodoxy’s faes
 She’s swingein thro’ the city!
Hark, how the nine-tail’d cat she plays!
 I vow it’s unco pretty:
There, Learning, with his Greekish face,
 Grunts out some Latin ditty;
And Common-sense is gaun, ...Read more of this...

...he shining roofs and towers
The blue broke forth athwart the grey;
Birds carolled in their leafless bowers.

Hither and tither, swift and gay,
The people chased the changeful hours;
And you, you passed and smiled that day,
Between the showers....Read more of this...

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