Stevenson, Robert Louis (1850–1894). A Child’s Garden of Verses and Underwoods. 1913.
IX. The Counterblast Ironical
I
The yearth and lift sae hie,
An’ clean forget to explain the same
To a gentleman like me.
Their weird they weel may dree
But why present a pig in a poke
To a gentleman like me?
An’ sup their sugared tea;
But the mind is no to be wyled wi’ meat
Wi’ a gentleman like me.
At gloamin’ on the lea;
But they’re made of a commoner clay, I suppose,
Than a gentleman like me.
They suffer, bleed, or dee;
But a’ thir things are an emp’y sang
To a gentleman like me.
Tho’ humble as can be—
A statement fair in my Maker’s hand
To a gentleman like me:
An’ a plain apologie;
Or the deevil a ceevil word to God
From a gentleman like me.