Dingle Doozie Poem by Alexander Anderson

Dingle Doozie



Dingle, dingle doozie,
Hoo he lauchs to see't
Whirlin' roun' an' up an' doon,
Frae his heid an' feet.
Keep his dumpy fingers in,
Dinna touch the lowe;
Dingle, dingle doozie,
Burn his curly pow.


What a spurlin' wi' his feet
An' hotchin' on my knee,
Divin' at the burnin' stick,
Then lookin' up at me;
No anither thing will please,
Though we turn the hoose,
Dingle, dingle doozie,
Burn the nose o' puss.


Pussie's wiser than the bairn,
Gies the stick a cuff,
Ruffles up her back an' tail,
An' starts to girn an' fuff;
Weel she kens what sparks will dae,
No like this wee man;
Gudesake, hoo did that come roun'?
There he's burn'd his han'.


Rin an' fetch his faither's stick
That nane gets but the wean;
Or mak' the big pat lid a girr,
An' birl't on the hearth-stane.
Nasty doozie! tak' the fire
For daurin' tae dae this;
Is his han'ie better noo,
Since mammy's gien't a kiss?


What are we but bairnies still,
Every way we turn?
Scram'lin' after lowin' sticks,
But to get a burn.
Bairnies sittin' saxty years
On mither life's braid knee,
Watchin' dingle doozies whirl
Roun' us till we dee.

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