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'A Scottish Prejudice...'
In ma bairntide, I' the primary schuil,
Ah coudnae thole arithmetic lessons;
Fractions, lang diveesions and gaes-in-taes.

Thair 'Language Laboratory' left me cauld.
Aye trailin ahint twa, three smairt lassies,
Wha aye struck gowd when aw wiz left wi bronze.

In a Scunner ah wid longingly gaze
Oot the windae at promised Summer hills,
Cled in trees tae be clomb, burns tae be swum.

But aye an oan Ah'd sit there in a dwam,
When Mrs MacSween wove magical spells,
Anent Scotia's fecht fir independence;

Hou the bold Douglas sclimb't up Embra's crags an DING'T the hale English garrison doun.
Hou the Bruce oan a fleet heilant powny, cleaved rash De Bohan's proudful helm in twa.
An William Wallace, Brave heartit Wallace!

Each gory detail o' his obscene daith
Wis etched upon our young and fertile minds;
The noble heid, piked atour London Bridge,

His airms displayed at Berwick an the Tyne
His legs, hung oot like butcher's bloody jynts
At Aiberdeen and Perth, aboun they ports.

Fir rats an hoodie craws and laithsome mauchs
Tae swall thair kytes an feast thairselves upon.
The kindae mundane Horror we-ans enjoy!

Nou mair as thirty year syne ah sit here,
A copy o' 'Bline Harry' in ma haund
Readin the notes o' some auld Scots divine.

Jamieson, quotin frae Andrew de Wyntown;
'A thousan three hunnerd and the fifty yhear
Aifter the byrth of our Lord dear.
Sire John of Menteth in thae days
Took in Glesga, William Wallace.
And sent him in-till England Swine
Thare wez he quairtid and undone.
Be despite such injury
Thare he told this martyry' .

Micht thon auld teacher wryly smile tae ken,
The boys she tocht hae aw nou grown Scots men.
An thon keen prejudice whilk kennled Burns

Whilk she, sae glegly instillt intae us
Strivin tae mak siccar, lest we forget,
Still floods OOR veins, and NEYVER will abate.