“Something Wrang.”
Lines on seeing a delicate boy, on a cold day, thinly clad, wearing boots minus the soles.
Puir wee shilpit, feckless bairn,
Ma hert is sair tae see ye;
An’ tho’ I haena’ muckle pooer
I’ll dae ma best tae help ye.
I hae a pound that I had saved
Against a rainy day;
’Twad burn ma pooch while ye’re in want,
I’ll spend it come what may.
An’ when it’s dune some ither freen’
May tak’ thy hapless form,
An’ biel ye frae the frosty wun’
An’ frae the winter storm.
Ye’r sad dark een look intae mine
An gie ma hert a pang,
They humbly tell, tho’ tongue be still,
There’s shairly something wrang.
Then tae a system that’s accurs’t
May every ill betide
That winna fin’ the bairns in meat
An’ raiment fit provide.