Classic Poem

" Whar gang ye wi' your kettle pot,
Whar gang ye wi' yer tea?
Come owr and gie 's the gossip o' 't, "
Said Lucky Broon to me.

The double jade has bonny e'en,
That seek ye through an' through,
And wi' her tongue that clypes sae clean
She 'll gar a lie look true.
But at her word I stepit ben
As gossip keen 's hersel',
Tho' fine I kent — what she would ken,
I'd ne'er a mind to tell.

II.

" Ye hae a dainty kettle pot,
A fine gou has yer tea —
I fain would share the brewin' o' 't, "
Said Lucky Broon to me.

I daurna be uncevil like
To sic a wife as she,
I 'd süner raise a hornets' byke
Than her ill win' o' me.
So couthy-like I settled doun
At her bit ingle side,
To watch her thraw me roun' and roun'
And seek what I would hide.

III.

" Ye 're neighbourly wi' kettle pot
And wi' your dish o' tea,
But losh! your gossip 's far frae hot, "
Said Lucky Broon to me.

When I gaed out she keeked at me
Wi' her black witch's e'en,
And saw the thing within my e'e
My tongue had tried to screen.
She keeked and spyed for a' my craft —
As weel I micht hae ken'd,
And gied a lauch that said ye 're daft
To think ye could forfend.

" Ye 're canty wi' your kettle pot
And wi' your drappie tea,
But wow, my hen! ye've gotten o' 't
And maun the burden dree —
The thing that tips the petticoat
Plays whamle in your e'e " —
Auld Lucky said to me.