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To: Mo1
Non stop party, Mo! :o)
46 posted on 03/17/2004 7:45:27 AM PST by ohioWfan (BUSH 2004 - Leadership, Integrity, Morality)
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To: ohioWfan; deadhead; Billie; SpookBrat; LadyX; MeekOneGOP; Aquamarine; dansangel; dutchess; ...
Top o' tha mornin' to ya all! And a happy St. Paddy's day too! I raise a pint o' cider to the health of all me lads and lassies. *[/;o)

In tribute to Jean Kerry's official nomination to the DemocRAT party I'd like to offer a little poem for your consideration. I know this is an Irish holiday but since I'm Scotch-Irish I reckon I can get away with this. Scottish poet Robert Burns' "To A Louse"...

Ha! whare ye gaun, ye crowlin' ferlie?
Your impudence protects you sairly;
I canna say but ye strunt rarely
Owre gauze and lace,
Tho'faith! I fear ye dine but sparely
On sic a place.

Ye ugly, creepin', blastit wonner,
Detested, shunned by saint an' sinner,
How daur ye set your fit upon her --
Sae fine a lady!
Gae somewhere else and seek your dinner
On some poor body.

Swith! in some begger's hauffet squattle:
There ye may creep and sprawl and sprattle,
Wi'ither kindred, jumping cattle,
In shoals and nations;
Whare horn nor bane ne'er daur unsettle
Your thick plantations.

Now haud you there! ye're out o' sight,
Below the fatt'rils, snug and tight;
Na, faith ye yet! ye'll no be right
Till ye've got on it--
The vera tapmost, tow'ring height
O' Miss's bonnet.

My sooth! right bauld ye set your nose out,
As plump an' grey as onie grozet;
O for some rank, mercurial rozet;
Or fell red smeddum,
I'd gie ye sic a heartly dose o't,
Wad dress your droddum.

I wad na been suprised to spy
You on an auld wife's flainen toy;
Or aiblins some bit duddie boy,
On 's wyliecoat;
But Miss's fine Lunardi! fye!
How daur ye do't?

O Jenny, dinna toss your head,
An, set your beauties a' abread!
Ye little ken what cursed speed
The blastie's makin'!
Thae winks an' finger-ends, I dread,
Are notice takin'!

O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as inthers see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us,
An' foolish notion;
What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us,
An' ev'n devotion!

For those not familiar with old Scottish dialects: This poem is about a woman who dresses in her best finery to show off at church. She proudly flaunts her beauty and revels in the whispers of the congregation. But the envious looks and praise she imagines are not what passes from member to member. Blinded by her own narcissism, she cannot see what's right under her nose: she's infested with lice to everyone else's repulsion.

51 posted on 03/17/2004 8:32:47 AM PST by Donaeus ( Change the world, not en mass, but by planting freedom in one heart/mind at a time.)
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