成人快手

By Thomas Given

The wheels o鈥� progress birlin鈥� roon

Bring changes every day,
Till rural haunts as weel as toon
Nou grammal at display.
The scenes oor fathers used tae please
Are nou but second rated,
Tae waens wha croon their A B C鈥檚
Maun hae them illustrated
An鈥� clear this day.

Change seems tae some as for their good,
An鈥� ithers for their ill;
But syne whun richtly understood,
We maistly fit the bill.
Yet sure the auld scenes o鈥� oor youth
Are swiftly disappearin鈥�,
Until the country side in truth
New claes will soon be wearin鈥�
Fou braw this day.

The only thing nou lookin鈥� strange
Is Jennie Wylie鈥檚 burn;
But in this wealthy age o鈥� change
鈥橳wull surely get its turn.
Its zig-zag twusts an鈥� awkward bends,
As soon the holm it wimples,
Micht weel bring honour tae oor friends
In stretchin鈥� oot its dimples
In line this day.

I hear the auld schule at the pun鈥�
Is nou aboot tae go,
Replacet by yin on wider grun,
An鈥� better squaret for show;
But, ah! its builders canna move,
Mid their deliberations,
The beaten pad an鈥� freenly grove
O鈥� young associations,
Doon there yin day.

The palmy days are lang awa鈥�
Whun Craig keek鈥檛 through his specs,
An鈥� cud tak鈥� in frae wig tae wa鈥�
Oor weest pranks an鈥� acts.
Syntax was little thoucht o鈥� then,
But heth we had tae mind it,
For at the very pointer鈥檚 en鈥�
He taught us how tae find it,
By nicht or day.

The very tree is stannin鈥� yet,
An鈥� growin鈥� wae the rest,
Whar Robert Kernohan did sit
Astride upon his nest.
鈥橳was no鈥� amang the unner snigs
We had tae reach him biggin鈥�,
But far within the tapmost twigs
He place鈥檛 it wa鈥� an鈥� riggen,
Complete that day.

Then whun the maister didna see,
Oor pea guns answer鈥檛 weel,
Charge鈥檛 frae a pretae cut in three,
Stuck in an auld goose queel.
The smirkin鈥� lass wha boun the rest
Stood nearly head an鈥� shouther,
Was sarely plague鈥檛, or mebby bless鈥檛,
Wae oor uncertain pouther,
In cracks that day.

Some wur bedeck鈥檛 in corduroy,
An鈥� sakeless o鈥� a shoe;
But as a rule the barefoot boy
Wae credit aye got through,
As watch him on a Friday nicht
While Craig the marks is scannin鈥�,
He mostly then cam oot a鈥� richt,
An鈥檃t the head kept stannin鈥�
O鈥� 鈥檌s class that day.

Since then what bitter change has come
Across the line o鈥� years.
Death finds the quotient o鈥� his sum,
In spite o鈥� a鈥� oor tears.
The usefu鈥� yins wur mostly ta鈥檈n,
In middle o鈥� their summer;
Some, like mysel鈥�, that does remain
Are hardly fit for lummer
On ony day.

Some hae succeedit as they should 鈥�
There鈥檚 Maxwell Gault for yin,
An鈥� J. H. Woods, wha aften stood
Near famous 鈥淚ron Shin.鈥�
Like Jammie Buick o鈥� the Hough,
In mirth they wurna stinted,
But kept the lasses in a lowe
That needna noo be printed
Or sung this day.

Yet in the en鈥� we鈥檙e truly please鈥檛
Tae see the new yin rise,
An鈥� hope its cogs may aye be grease鈥檛
Wae oil unknown tae lies;
An鈥� may its teachin鈥� staff appear
As we at present fin鈥� it:
A youthfu鈥� guide frae year tae year,
Without deception in it
On ony day.