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C J Dennis - `Bobbie` for Brotherhood
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Lang syne I penned a mickle rhyme
   That muckle grief brocht to my soul;
For critics said `twas aye a crime
   Nae Scottish patriot could thole
Whit way I ca`ed their honored bard,
   Wi` kind intention, "Bobbie" Burns.
Aye, mon, they smote me fine an` hard
   Wi` sic` fierce words as nae yin learns
Save native sons, those braw, stern men
O` mountain crag an` heather glen.

Misdoubtin` whit my critics said,
   An` sair distressed aboot my plight,
A notion cam` intil my head
   To haud a Scottish plebiscite.
Forbye I passed frae Scot to Scot
   Spierin` whit way they named their bard,
An` aye the same reply I got
   Wi`out dispute in sic` regard;
For ilka mon gie`d answer straight
Wi` ne`er a thocht tae heesitate.

A mon frae Glasea first I speired,
   A humble an` unlettered loon,
An` then a scholar, red o` beard,
   That cam` from Edinburgh toon;
A Hielan` chief, a rowan` chiel,
   Men oot o` Leith an` Aberdeen,
Tae ane an` a` I made appeal,
   Tae gowk an` greybeard, wife an` wean,
An` a`, wi` unanimity
The selfsame answer gi`ed tae me.

An `twas na` Robert, Rab or Rob
   They ca`ed yon braw, poetic yin
That wakes in Scottish hearts a throb
   Wi` words that mak` the whole world kin.
They named him "Bobbie" wi`out shame,
   As Bobbie he will ever be
To sic` as scorn to clothe his name
   Wi` smug respectabeelity.
To humble hearts his songs defend
Beloved Bobbie, brither, friend.
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