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Literary
February 9, 1825
Massachusetts Spy And Worcester Advertiser
Worcester, Worcester County, Massachusetts
What is this article about?
A poem in Scots dialect, imitating Robert Burns, addressed to a land tortoise. The speaker observes its slow, steady movement, compares it to sluggish humans, notes its longevity and habits, and bids it farewell without harm.
Clipping
OCR Quality
95%
Excellent
Full Text
The following is handed to us as original. It is no mean imitation of the great Scottish bard, and well deserves "a local habitation and a name."
TO A LAND TORTOISE.
Guid mornin' frien', ye're early creepin',
Wi' head erect, about ye prepin',
And steady gait ye always keep in.
Aye sure an' slaw;
I doubt the time ye tak' to sleep in
Is unco sma'.
Your crawlin' pits me aye in mind
O' turtles o' the human kind;
How mony crawlers do we find
'Mang sons o' men,
Wi' thoughts unto this earth inclin'd
Until the end?
Ye'd live a hunder years, they say,
An' mony a weary mile ye gae,
An' mony a hunder eggs ye lay,
Ye queer auld beast—
Whilk gies the snake, your mortal fae,
Fu' mony a feast.
Ah! now ye've shut yoursel' up tight—
Ise think ye're in an awsome plight,
At seein' sic an unco sight
As my queer face;
Gang on your gait—I'm na the wight
Wad harm your race!
Aiblins, I might, for fun or fame,
Just carve upo' your hard auld wame,
The twa initials o' my name;
An' whan I met ye,
Whilk done, na ither right I'd claim,
Than down to set ye.
But fare ye weel! I now maun leave ye;
I ken my absence will na grieve ye;
Wi' jingling Scotch I'll na mair deave ye,
An' ithers too;
Sae ance for a' I freely give ye
A lang adieu!
TO A LAND TORTOISE.
Guid mornin' frien', ye're early creepin',
Wi' head erect, about ye prepin',
And steady gait ye always keep in.
Aye sure an' slaw;
I doubt the time ye tak' to sleep in
Is unco sma'.
Your crawlin' pits me aye in mind
O' turtles o' the human kind;
How mony crawlers do we find
'Mang sons o' men,
Wi' thoughts unto this earth inclin'd
Until the end?
Ye'd live a hunder years, they say,
An' mony a weary mile ye gae,
An' mony a hunder eggs ye lay,
Ye queer auld beast—
Whilk gies the snake, your mortal fae,
Fu' mony a feast.
Ah! now ye've shut yoursel' up tight—
Ise think ye're in an awsome plight,
At seein' sic an unco sight
As my queer face;
Gang on your gait—I'm na the wight
Wad harm your race!
Aiblins, I might, for fun or fame,
Just carve upo' your hard auld wame,
The twa initials o' my name;
An' whan I met ye,
Whilk done, na ither right I'd claim,
Than down to set ye.
But fare ye weel! I now maun leave ye;
I ken my absence will na grieve ye;
Wi' jingling Scotch I'll na mair deave ye,
An' ithers too;
Sae ance for a' I freely give ye
A lang adieu!
What sub-type of article is it?
Poem
Satire
Soliloquy
What themes does it cover?
Nature
Moral Virtue
Social Manners
What keywords are associated?
Land Tortoise
Scots Dialect
Burns Imitation
Slow Pace
Human Comparison
Nature Observation
Literary Details
Title
To A Land Tortoise.
Subject
Imitation Of The Great Scottish Bard
Form / Style
Poem In Scots Dialect
Key Lines
Guid Mornin' Frien', Ye're Early Creepin',
Wi' Head Erect, About Ye Prepin',
Your Crawlin' Pits Me Aye In Mind
O' Turtles O' The Human Kind;
Ye'd Live A Hunder Years, They Say,
But Fare Ye Weel! I Now Maun Leave Ye;