Eggplant.place

230d

StAnza 2026
13–15 March, St Andrews & online

Tickets are on sale for StAnza 2026, Scotland’s award-winning poetry festival dedicated to bringing poetry in all its forms & many languages to audiences around the world

https://stanzapoetry.org/festival/stanza-2026/

#Scottish #literature #poetry #festivals #StAndrews

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231d

But I am half a Scot by birth, and bred
A whole one, and my heart flies to my head,—

—from “Don Juan”, Canto X, by George Gordon, Lord Byron

The great Romantic poet George Gordon Byron, 6th Baron Byron – Lord Byron – was born #OTD, 22 Jan, 1788

A 🎂 🧵

1/5

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Byron #LordByron #romantic #romanticism #18thcentury #19thcentury

from “Don Juan”, Canto X
George Gordon Byron

And all our little feuds, at least all mine,
Dear Jefferson, once my most redoubted foe
(As far as rhyme and criticism combine
To make such puppets of us things below),
Are over: Here's a health to 'Auld Lang Syne!'
I do not know you, and may never know
Your face—but you have acted on the whole
Most nobly, and I own it from my soul.

And when I use the phrase of 'Auld Lang Syne!'
'Tis not address'd to you—the more's the pity
For me, for I would rather take my wine
With you, than aught (save Scott) in your proud city.
But somehow,—it may seem a schoolboy's whine,
And yet I seek not to be grand nor witty,
But I am half a Scot by birth, and bred
A whole one, and my heart flies to my head,—

As 'Auld Lang Syne' brings Scotland, one and all,
Scotch plaids, Scotch snoods, the blue hills, and clear streams,
The Dee, the Don, Balgounie's brig's black wall,
All my boy feelings, all my gentler dreams
Of what I then dreamt, clothed in their own pall,
Like Banquo's offspring;—floating past me seems
My childhood in this childishness of mine:
I care not—'t is a glimpse of 'Auld Lang Syne.'

And though, as you remember, in a fit
Of wrath and rhyme, when juvenile and curly,
I rail'd at Scots to show my wrath and wit,
Which must be own'd was sensitive and surly,
Yet 'tis in vain such sallies to permit,
They cannot quench young feelings fresh and early:
I 'scotch'd not kill'd' the Scotchman in my blood,
And love the land of 'mountain and of flood.'

ALT

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231d

Who Speaks Scots Where: What Crowdsourcing Reveals
2 February, Edinburgh Futures Institute – free

Jennifer Smith & Brian Aitken present findings from a new crowdsourced resource – Speak for Yersel – which sets out to map dialect use in Scots throughout Scotland

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/who-speaks-scots-where-what-crowdsourcing-reveals-tickets-1975120018143

#Scotland #Scottish #language #Scots #Scotslanguage #minoritylanguages #linguistics

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231d

Gin I was God, sittin’ up there abeen,
Weariet nae doot noo a’ my darg was deen,
Deaved wi’ the harps an’ hymns oonendin’ ringin’,
Tired o’ the flockin’ angels hairse wi’ singin’,
To some clood-edge I’d daunder furth an’, feth,
Look ower an’ watch hoo things were gyaun aneth…

—Charles Murray (1864–1941), “Gin I Was God”
published in THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF SCOTTISH VERSE, @canongatebooks 2021

https://canongate.co.uk/books/3267-the-golden-treasury-of-scottish-verse/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #20thcentury #Scots #Scotslanguage #god

Gin I Was God
Charles Murray

Gin I was God, sittin’ up there abeen,
Weariet nae doot noo a’ my darg was deen,
Deaved wi’ the harps an’ hymns oonendin’ ringin’,
Tired o’ the flockin’ angels hairse wi’ singin’,
To some clood-edge I’d daunder furth an’, feth,
Look ower an’ watch hoo things were gyaun aneth.
Syne, gin I saw hoo men I’d made mysel’
Had startit in to pooshan, sheet an’ fell,
To reive an’ rape, an’ fairly mak’ a hell
O’ my braw birlin’ Earth, – a hale week’s wark –
I’d cast my coat again, rowe up my sark,
An’, or they’d time to lench a second ark,
Tak’ bak my word an’ sen’ anither spate,
Droon oot the hale hypothec, dicht the sklate,
Own my mistak’, an’, aince I’d cleared the brod,
Start a’thing ower again, gin I was God.

ALT

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230d

One drops
in a bunker,
another on his doorstep,
Christmas morning, shovelling snow…

—Andrew Greig, “Norman’s Goodnight”
from This Life, This Life: New & Selected Poems 1976–2006 (Bloodaxe Books, 2006

Norman MacCaig (1910–1996) died #OTD, 23 Jan

https://poetryarchive.org/poem/normans-goodnight/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #NormanMacCaig

Norman’s Goodnight
by Andrew Greig

One drops
in a bunker,
another on his doorstep,
Christmas morning, shovelling snow.

When I go
may it be like that,
a short fall down and out
while busy in open air –

like a pigeon, say,
winging it across clear sky,
sways then plummets,
brought down by stray buckshot.

And may there be time
to murmur as I fold
some word of thanks
and letting go –

like the last time I saw MacCaig
standing at his door;
as I turned the stair
his hand came up, waved:

Ta-ta. Ta-ta.
Masterly concision –
‘Thank you’ and
‘Goodnight’ in one.

I hope to be
even briefer as I fall:

Ta –

ALT

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228d

Grant me, indulgent Heaven, that I may live,
To see the miscreants feel the pains they give;
Deal Freedom’s sacred treasures free as air,
Till Slave and Despot be but things that were.

—Robert Burns, “Lines Inscribed in a Lady’s Pocket Almanac”

#Scottish #literature #RobertBurns #BurnsNight #poem #poetry #18thcentury #liberty #justice #freedom

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144d

Happy birthday to Tim Curry – proven by ACTUAL SCIENCE to have given the pre-eminent screen portrayal of Long John Silver

From Braemar to Hollywood: The American Appropriation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Pirates
—Richard J. Hill & Laura Eidam, Humanities 2020, 9(1)

@litstudies

https://www.mdpi.com/2076-0787/9/1/10

#Scottish #literature #RobertLouisStevenson #cinema #adaptation #TreasureIsland #Muppets #MuppetTreasureIsland #TimCurry

One obvious obstacle to physical authenticity is Silver’s leg: cut “close by the hip” in the text, all the actors to play him are bipedal; therefore, they all had to fold and secure their left legs in what must presumably be a very uncomfortable position, making the role physically challenging (Stevenson [1883] 2012, p. 85). Such an arrangement must also make moving like Stevenson’s Silver very difficult. Fleming accounts for this by using an action double for Beery, most clearly in his murder of Tom, allowing the audience to believe in his physical prowess. Newton maneuvers impressively on the crutch but does little to convince the viewer of any physical threat. This fact allows for film adaptations to further soften the Silver character as we will discuss in the next two sections: where Stevenson’s Silver appears to use his disfigurement to disguise his physical abilities, making him dangerous, film adaptations often use it to blunt any real threat. Charlton Heston, for example, is a menacing presence in the 1990 Turner Pictures adaptation, but his age and awkwardness of movement are a clear contrast with Wyeth’s dynamic, nimble Silver. With the possible exception of Tim Curry—who is younger and more agile than his cinematic counterparts—in the playful 1996 film Muppet Treasure Island, the Silver of the screen must rely more on his wits, his charm, and his presence of character, than on any physical threat he poses, in order to manipulate his crew, Jim, or Jim’s friends.

ALT

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34d

#OTD, 7 Aug, 1879, Robert Louis Stevenson boarded the SS Devonia to make the ten-day passage from Greenock to New York to pursue his thwarted relationship with Fanny Osbourne. In THE AMATEUR EMIGRANT he gives a vivid, sharp, & engaging account of his (impoverished) travels to & in America – read the first 5 chapters free 👇️

1/3

#Scottish #literature #19thcentury #Victorian #travelwriting #RobertLouisStevenson #emigration

Book cover

Robert Louis Stevenson
The Amateur Emigrant
From the Clyde to Sandy Hook
Chapters I to V

On a blue-grey background, fading from dark to light from bottom to top, horizontal lines of blue-green spirals representing waves cover the bottom half of the page. The top line of spirals are coloured white.

ALT

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144d

Quintessential Romantic Lord Byron – “half a Scot by birth, and bred / a whole one” – died #OTD, 19 April, 1824

Byron included this #poem in a letter to Thomas Moore from Venice in 1817, when Byron was feeling particularly shagged out after Carnevale…

1/4

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43845/so-well-go-no-more-a-roving

#Scottish #literature #Byron #LordByron #romanticism #poem #poetry #19thCentury

So we’ll go no more a-roving
George Gordon, Lord Byron

So we’ll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And Love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we’ll go no more a-roving
By the light of the moon.

ALT

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229d

Atween November’s end and noo
there’s really nithin else tae do
but climb inside a brindlet coo
and dream o Spring,
fur Winter’s decked hur breist and broo
wi icy bling…

—W.N. Herbert, “Rabbie, Rabbie, Burning Bright”
published in OMNESIA (Remix) (Bloodaxe Books, 2013)

Warming up for Burns Night …

https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/rabbie-rabbie-burning-bright/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #RobertBurns #BurnsNight #StandardHabbie #winter

Rabbie, Rabbie, Burning Bright
by W. N. Herbert

Atween November’s end and noo
there’s really nithin else tae do
but climb inside a brindlet coo
and dream o Spring,
fur Winter’s decked hur breist and broo
wi icy bling.

It feels like, oan St Andrae’s nicht,
thi sun went oot and gote sae ticht
he endit up in a braw fire fecht
wi some wee comet –
noo he’s layin low wi his punched-oot licht
aa rimmed wi vomit.

We too hae strachilt lik The Bruce
and hacked up turkey, duck and goose;
and let aa resolution loose
oan Hogmanay,
but waddle noo frae wark tae hoose
lyk dogs they spayed.

ALT

Each year fails tae begin thi same:
fae dregs o Daft Deys debt comes hame
and we gaither in depression’s wame
aa duty-crossed –
but Burns’s birthday is a flame
set tae Defrost.

Ye dinna need tae be Confucius
tae ken, if Dullness wad confuse us,
ye caa ‘Respite! Let’s aa get stocious –
And dinna nag us.
Grant us that globe of spice, thi luscious
Delight caaed “haggis”!’

That truffle o the North must be
dug frae the depths o January,
but cannae pass oor lips, nor we
cross Limbo’s border –
unless that passport, Poetry,
be quite in order.

Sae thi daurkest deys o thi haill damn year
can dawn in yawns baith dreich an drear –
sae thi Taxman’s axe is at wir ear
fur his Returns?
We Scots sall neither dreid nor fear
but read wir Burns.

ALT

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229d

Beacon Book Festival 2026
20–22 February, Greenock

The inaugural Beacon Book Festival will take place next month at Beacon Arts Centre, welcoming some of the UK’s finest writers, poets and storytellers to Inverclyde for three inspiring days of discussion, performance and creativity.

https://www.beaconartscentre.co.uk/beacon-book-festival/

#Scottish #literature #poetry #storytelling #writers #Greenock #Inverclyde

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229d

Level Vibes: Burns Night 2026

Level Vibes spotlights the relationship between Scotland & Jamaica through the creativity of Jamaican poets, curated by Jamaican artist Fabian Thomas.

You can read the poems online, as well as articles examining Burns’s attitudes to slavery & Scotland’s connections with Jamaica during the poet’s lifetime

https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/burns-night-2026/

#Scottish #literature #Scotland #Jamaica #RobertBurns #poetry #slavery #18thcentury

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229d

May Liberty meet wi’ success!
May Prudence protect her frae evil!
May tyrants and tyranny tine i’ the mist,
And wander their way to the devil!

—Robert Burns, “Here’s a Health to them that’s awa” (c. 1792)

A poem In advance of Burns Night

https://www.bbc.co.uk/arts/robertburns/works/heres_a_health_to_them_thats_awa/

#Scottish #literature #18thcentury #RobertBurns #BurnsNight #poem #poetry #liberty #tyranny

Here's a health to them that's awa
Robert Burns

Here's a health to them that's awa,
Here's a health to them that's awa;
And wha winna wish gude luck to our cause,
May never gude luck be their fa'!
It's gude to be merry and wise,
It's gude to be honest and true;
It's gude to support Caledonia's cause,
And bide by the buff and the blue.

Here's a health to them that's awa,
Here's a health to them that's awa,
Here's a health to Charlie, the chief o' the clan,
Altho' that his band be sma'!
May Liberty meet wi' success!
May Prudence protect her frae evil!
May tyrants and tyranny tine i' the mist,
And wander their way to the devil!

Here's a health to them that's awa,
Here's a health to them that's awa;
Here's a health to Tammie, the Norlan' laddie,
That lives at the lug o' the law!
Here's freedom to them that wad read,
Here's freedom to them that wad write!
There's nane ever fear'd that the truth should be heard,
But they whom the truth wad indite.

Here's a health to them that's awa,
Here's a health to them that's awa;
Here's chieftain M'Leod, a chieftain worth gowd,
Tho' bred amang mountains o' snaw;
Here's friends on baith sides o' the Forth,
And friends on baith sides o' the Tweed;
And wha wad betray old Albion's right,
May they never eat of her bread!

ALT

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227d

George Douglas Brown (1869–1902) was born #OTD, 26 January – best known for his 1901 novel THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS:

“…the TRAINSPOTTING of its day… an angry young man’s response to the misrepresentation of contemporary Scottish life”

A 🎂 🧵

1/7

https://list.co.uk/news/39535/george-douglas-brown-the-house-with-the-green-shutters-1901

#Scottish #literature #20thcentury #modernism #postmodernism

Book cover

THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS

Cover image: A small window in a pale cream-coloured wall, with green shutters. One is half open, but we can only see darkness inside. In the foreground, a red-headed postman in a blue uniform, his eyes and mouth wide open in shock and horror, whirls away from the window, his body twisting as he turns and flees from what he has seen within.

ALT

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144d

Marion Cleland Lochhead (1902–1985) was born #OTD, 19 April, in Wishaw. A founding member of Scottish PEN, Lochhead was a versatile figure of the 20th-century Scottish literary scene.

👇“Painted Things”, by Marion Lochhead – published in Painted Things & Other Poems (Gowans & Grey, 1929)

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #womenwriters #20thcentury

Painted Things
Marion Lochhead

I love painted things –
Bright wooden toys and boxes, coloured beads,
Shawls like a peacock's plumage, scarves like wings
Of birds that flaunt and flutter: all that breeds
Delight and thoughts fantastic. I love glass,
Deep-tinted, amethystine, fire-red, gold,
That throws dim, changing luminance as I pass,
And shifts, deploys like tapestries unrolled –
I love all these
Gay fantasies; but more I love the grey
Austere walls of cathedrals, the bare trees
That stand unmoved, with light and wing away.

ALT

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228d

“On the dirt roads of Arkansas I first met Robert Burns…”

Currently on the BBC iPlayer: writer, poet, & activist Dr Maya Angelou goes on a pilgrimage to the home of Robert Burns (originally broadcast in 1996 to mark the bicentenary of Burns’s death)

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m0013vcs

#Scottish #literature #RobertBurns #MayaAngelou #BurnsNight #poetry #romanticism #18thcentury

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228d

I murder hate by flood or field,
Tho’ glory's name may screen us;
In wars at home I’ll spend my blood—
Life-giving wars of Venus.
The deities that I adore
Are social Peace and Plenty;
I’m better pleas’d to make one more,
Than be the death of twenty…

—Robert Burns, “I Murder Hate”

#Scottish #literature #RobertBurns #BurnsNight #poetry #romanticism #18thcentury

I Murder Hate
Robert Burns

I murder hate by flood or field,
Tho’ glory’s name may screen us;
In wars at home I’ll spend my blood—
Life-giving wars of Venus.
The deities that I adore
Are social Peace and Plenty;
I’m better pleas’d to make one more,
Than be the death of twenty.

I would not die like Socrates,
For all the fuss of Plato;
Nor would I with Leonidas,
Nor yet would I with Cato:
The zealots of the Church and State
Shall ne’er my mortal foes be;
But let me have bold Zimri’s fate,
Within the arms of Cozbi!

ALT

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228d

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, and then forever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee…

—Robert Burns
published in SELECTED POEMS & SONGS (OUP, 2013)

https://global.oup.com/academic/product/selected-poems-and-songs-9780199682324

#Scottish #literature #RobertBurns #BurnsNight #poetry #romanticism #18thcentury #song #folksong #lovesong

Robert Burns
“Ae Fond Kiss”

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, and then forever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee.
Who shall say that fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae cheerfu’ twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.

I'll ne’er blame my partial fancy,
Naething could resist my Nancy;
But to see her was to love her;
Love but her, and love forever.
Had we never lov’d sae kindly,
Had we never lov’d sae blindly,
Never met—or never parted—
We had ne’er been broken-hearted.

Fare thou weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, Enjoyment, Love, and Pleasure!
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, Alas! for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee.

ALT

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228d

Dear Robert Burns,

You skipped the big town streets just like I done, you ducked the crosstown cop just like I ducked, you dodged behind a beanpole to beat the bigtime dick and you very seldom stopped off in any big city where the rigged corn wasn’t drying nor the hot vine didn’t help you do your talking…

“To That Man Robert Burns”
—Woody Guthrie, June 9, 1947
Published in Woody Guthrie, Born To Win (Macmillan, 1965)

#Scottish #literature #RobertBurns #BurnsNight #WoodyGuthrie

ALT

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228d

From 2020 – Prof Kirsteen McCue, Prof Nigel Leask, & Dr Craig Lamont discuss the importance of the Kilmarnock edition of POEMS, CHIEFLY IN THE SCOTTISH DIALECT for Burns, & the significance of the copy of the volume donated by Craig Sharp to Glasgow University’s Centre for Robert Burns Studies

@litstudies

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L1LzFCI1bNs&feature=youtu.be

#Scottish #literature #RobertBurns #BurnsNight #poetry #romanticism #18thcentury #BookHistory

Edited 228d ago

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228d

My Son, these maxims make a rule,
An’ lump them aye thegither;
The Rigid Righteous is a fool,
The Rigid Wise anither…

—Robert Burns, “Address to the Unco Guid, or the Ridgidly Righteous”

#Scottish #literature #RobertBurns #BurnsNight #poem #poetry #18thcentury #humour

Address to the Unco Guid, or the Ridgidly Righteous
Robert Burns

My Son, these maxims make a rule,
An’ lump them aye thegither;
The Rigid Righteous is a fool,
The Rigid Wise anither:
The cleanest corn that ere was dight
May hae some pyles o’ caff in;
So ne’er a fellow-creature slight
For random fits o’ daffin.
—Solomon, Eccles. 7. 16

O ye wha are sae guid yoursel’,
Sae pious and sae holy,
Ye’ve nought to do but mark and tell
Your neibours’ fauts and folly!
Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill,
Supplied wi’ store o’ water;
The heaped happer’s ebbing still,
An’ still the clap plays clatter.

Hear me, ye venerable core,
As counsel for poor mortals
That frequent pass douce Wisdom’s door
For glaikit Folly’s portals:
I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes,
Would here propone defences—
Their donsie tricks, their black mistakes,
Their failings and mischances.

Ye see your state wi’ theirs compared,
And shudder at the niffer;
But cast a moment’s fair regard,
What maks the mighty differ;
Discount what scant occasion gave,
That purity ye pride in;
And (what’s aft mair than a’ the lave),
Your better art o’ hidin.

Think, when your castigated pulse
Gies now and then a wallop!
What ragings must his veins convulse,
That still eternal gallop!
Wi’ wind and tide fair i’ your tail,
Right on ye scud your sea-way;
But in the teeth o’ baith to sail,
It maks a unco lee-way.

ALT

See Social Life and Glee sit down,
All joyous and unthinking,
Till, quite transmugrified, they’re grown
Debauchery and Drinking:
O would they stay to calculate
Th’ eternal consequences;
Or your more dreaded hell to state,
Damnation of expenses!

Ye high, exalted, virtuous dames,
Tied up in godly laces,
Before ye gie poor Frailty names,
Suppose a change o’ cases;
A dear-lov’d lad, convenience snug,
A treach’rous inclination—
But let me whisper i’ your lug,
Ye’re aiblins nae temptation.

Then gently scan your brother man,
Still gentler sister woman;
Tho’ they may gang a kennin wrang,
To step aside is human: ‍‍
One point must still be greatly dark,—
The moving Why they do it;‍‍
And just as lamely can ye mark,
How far perhaps they rue it.

Who made the heart, ’tis He alone
Decidedly can try us;
He knows each chord, its various tone,
Each spring, its various bias:
Then at the balance let’s be mute,
We never can adjust it;
What’s done we partly may compute,
But know not what’s resisted.

ALT

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228d

O wad some Pow’r the giftie gie us
To see oursels as others see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us
An’ foolish notion:
What airs in dress an’ gait wad lea’e us,
And ev’n Devotion!

—Robert Burns, “To a Louse”
from Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect: The Luath Kilmarnock Edition, illustrated by Bob Dewar

https://luath.co.uk/products/poems-chiefly-in-the-scottish-dialect?variant=42807652581526

#Scottish #literature #RobertBurns #BurnsNight #poem #poetry #18thcentury #humour

To a Louse, On Seeing one on a Lady’s Bonnet at Church
Robert Burns

Ha! whare ye gaun, ye crowlan ferlie!
Your impudence protects you sairly:
I canna say but ye strunt rarely,
Owre gawze and lace;
Tho’ faith, I fear ye dine but sparely,
On sic a place.

Ye ugly, creepan, blastet wonner,
Detested, shunn’d, by saunt an’ sinner,
How daur ye set your fit upon her,
Sae fine a Lady!
Gae somewhere else and seek your dinner,
On some poor body.

Swith, in some beggar’s haffet squattle;
There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle,
Wi’ ither kindred, jumping cattle,
In shoals and nations;
Whare horn nor bane ne’er daur unsettle,
Your thick plantations.

ALT

Now haud you there, ye’re out o’ sight,
Below the fatt’rels, snug and tight,
Na faith ye yet! ye’ll no be right,
Till ye’ve got on it,
The vera topmost, towrin height
O’ Miss’s bonnet.

My sooth! right bauld ye set your nose out,
As plump an’ gray as onie grozet:
O for some rank, mercurial rozet,
Or fell, red smeddum,
I’d gie you sic a hearty dose o’t,
Wad dress your droddum!

I wad na been surpriz’d to spy
You on an auld wife’s flainen toy;
Or aiblins some bit duddie boy,
On ’s wylecoat;
But Miss’s fine Lunardi, fye!
How daur ye do ’t?

ALT

O Jenny dinna toss your head,
An’ set your beauties a’ abread!
Ye little ken what cursed speed
The blastie’s makin!
Thae winks and finger-ends, I dread,
Are notice takin!

O wad some Pow’r the giftie gie us
To see oursels as others see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us
An’ foolish notion:
What airs in dress an’ gait wad lea’e us,
And ev’n Devotion!

ALT

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228d

Is there for honest Poverty
That hings his head, an’ a’ that;
The coward slave—we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a’ that!
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
Our toils obscure an’ a’ that,
The rank is but the guinea’s stamp,
The Man’s the gowd for a’ that.

—Robert Burns

https://poets.org/poem/mans-man

#Scottish #literature #RobertBurns #BurnsNight #poem #poetry #18thcentury #equality

A Man’s a Man for a’ That
Robert Burns

Is there for honest Poverty
That hings his head, an’ a’ that;
The coward slave—we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a’ that!
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
Our toils obscure an’ a’ that,
The rank is but the guinea’s stamp,
The Man’s the gowd for a’ that.

What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin grey, an’ a that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine;
A Man’s a Man for a’ that:
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Their tinsel show, an’ a’ that;
The honest man, tho’ e’er sae poor,
Is king o’ men for a’ that.

Ye see yon birkie, ca’d a lord,
Wha struts, an’ stares, an’ a’ that;
Tho’ hundreds worship at his word,
He’s but a coof for a’ that:
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
His ribband, star, an’ a’ that:
The man o’ independent mind
He looks an’ laughs at a’ that.

A prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, an’ a’ that;
But an honest man’s aboon his might—
Guid faith, he maunna fa’ that!
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
Their dignities an’ a’ that;
The pith o’ sense, an’ pride o’ worth,
Are higher rank than a’ that.

Then let us pray that come it may,
As come it will for a’ that,
That Sense and Worth, o’er a’ the earth,
Shall bear the gree, an’ a’ that.
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
It’s coming yet for a’ that,
That Man to Man, the world o’er,
Shall brothers be for a’ that.

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131d

“[Galt’s] realism is hard-headed, his compassion is tough-minded, his humour contagious but tainted with the sense that chaos and catastrophe are never far away”

—Prof Alan Riach on the fiction of John Galt (1779–1839), born #OTD, 2 May – a 🎂🧵

1/6

https://www.thenational.scot/news/15683482.john-galts-stories-of-19th-century-scots-life-still-resonate-today/

#Scottish #literature #satire #politics #politicalfiction #18thcentury #19thcentury #enlightenment #romanticism #JohnGalt

A portrait of the author John Galt, by Charles Grey (c. 1808–1892). Oil on canvas. Against a dark background, the face of a slightly curious, quizzical, clean-shaven man of middle age, wearing a high-necked white shirt. He has a black jacket over it which belnds into the background.

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228d

Ellisland, 1791

Dear Sir:

Thou eunuch of language; thou Englishman, who never was south the Tweed; thou servile echo of fashionable barbarisms; thou quack, vending the nostrums of empirical elocution; thou marriage-maker between vowels and consonants, on the Gretna-green of caprice…

—Robert Burns, Letter to a critic
via @lettersofnote

https://news.lettersofnote.com/p/thou-pickle-herring-in-the-puppet

#Scottish #literature #RobertBurns #BurnsNight #18thcentury #LettersofNote #correspondence #letters #critics #insults