Poems by Robert Burns
Presented by the RBWF
On the Duchess of Gordon’s Reel Dancing
SHE kiltit up her kirtle weel
To show her bonie cutes sae sma’,
And walloped about the reel,
The lightest louper o’ them a’!
While some, like slav’ring, doited stots
Stoit’ring out thro’ midden dub,
Fankit their heel amang their coats
And gart the floor rheir backsides rub;
Gordon, the great, the gay, the gallant,
Skip’d like a maukin owre a dyke:
Deil tak me, since I was a callant,
Gif e’er my een beheld the like!