Poem of the day

Nine Inch Will Please a Lady
by Robert Burns (1759-1796)

“Come rede me, dame, come tell me, dame,
      “My dame, come tell me truly,
“What length o’ graith, when weel ca’d hame,
      “Will ser’e a woman duly?”
The carlin clew her wanton tail,
      Her wanton tail sae ready—
I learn’t a sang in Annandale,
      Nine inch will please a lady.—

But for a countrie cunt like mine,
      In sooth we’re nae sae gentle;
We’ll tak’ twa thumb-bread to the nine,
      And that’s a sonsie pintle.
O leeze me on my Charlie lad!
      I’ll ne’er forget my Charlie!
Twa roarin’ handfu’ and a daud,
      He nidg’t it in fu’ rarely.—

But weary fa’ the laithern doup,
      And may it ne’er ken thrivin’!
It’s no the length that gars me loup,
      But it’s the double drivin’.—
Come nidge me Tam, come nodge me Tam,
      Come nidge me o’er the nyvle!
Come louse and lug your batterin’ ram,
      And thrash him at my gyvel.

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