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A True Scot in 1939 ©

John McCormick
Orillia, Canada

Auld Mr Gow
Ah I can see him now,
As he strode the streets
O’ Stirlin’.
Wi’ kilt b’lo his knees
We hoped for a breeze,
As bairns we laughed
And teased him.

"Yer a Teuchter" we’d cry,
As he went by
Wi' his Skean dhu
In his stockin’.
The war came then
And we saw the men,
O’ the Argylls,
Wi’ their highland rig on.

Only now, we cheered
An never jeered,
At the kilt
An’ the sound o’ bagpipes.
Whit changed oor minds
Aboot their behinds?
‘n whit made us
Such wise wee Scotsmen?

Is it jist we daur,
Tae follow war
And glory
In Tartan armies?
Wi’ tartan vest
Tae dae whit’s best?
Or jist go
Whaur ithers pu’ us?

How many noo
Wear the tartan troos,
On their muckle
Boney erses?
Mr Gow was proud,
Before the crowd,
Were moved by the times
Tae jine him.
(in ma verses)

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