A Hauf-a-Croun o Devolutioun

‘Say efter me,’ said Rab, as he gied the waen
a hauf-croun muckle’s the muin i the middle air,
the siller mellow wi munificence,
‘Say, “Thank ye for the next yin, for I’m shair
o this yin.”’ A wyss man, Rab! An wysslik bairn,
obedient tae dae sae nane daur say
‘You dae it nane,’ aye mynds this lesson laerit:
whit’s no in devolutioun for tae gie
is independence free.

Ay, Rab, Rab Henderson, ye never thocht
ye’d gie the gowd o independence tae a bairn
wi yer kyndlie siller, but thare’s mair ye wrocht
wi yer ‘As lang’s we can say “Damn the damnatiouner,”
an “Tae hell wi sovereigntie”, we’re aa richt.’ Here
I paraphrase in periphrasis. See,
yer gowdlik siller has at last fund whaur
this makar is an alchemist indeed
tae leade yer wurds or leid them!

The hauf-a-croun o devolution, Rab,
is never gien wi graciousness, but girns wi
greed in the giein as tho fae some auld crab,
fae some doon-moother. We ken thon soorlik face
fae thon timm back afore her doore grimace
for frichtin bairns was pentit oot o kennin.
Ay, girn she girns, but the mair she girns, the less
lyker is thrittie devolutioun pence
the croun o independence.

4th March 1978, final stanza 4th April 1978