But though the feck ha’e plenty o’ the “a’ that,”
They’re nocht but zoologically men.
I’m haverin’, Rabbie, but ye understaun’
It gets my dander up to see your star
A bauble in Babel, banged like a saxpence
’Twixt Burbank’s Baedeker and Bleistein’s cigar.
There’s nane sae ignorant but think they can
Expatiate on you, if on nae ither.
The sumphs ha’e ta’en you at your wird, and, fegs!
The foziest o’ them claims to be a—Brither!