Written by the Author when he was grievously tormented by that Disorder.
First printed in The Belfast Newsletter, 11th September, 1797.
MY curse on your envenom’d stang, sting
That shoots my tortur’d gooms alang, gums along
An’ thro’ my lugs gies mony a bang ears give, pain
Wi’ gnawin vengeance,
5 Tearing my nerves wi’ bitter twang, twinge
Like racking engines.
A’ down my beard the slavers trickle, saliva
I cast the wee stools o’er the meikle, small, largest
While round the fire the hav’rels keckle, idiots cackle
10 To see me loup; jump
I curse an’ ban, an’ wish a heckle flax-comb
Were i’ their doup. backsides
Whan fevers burn, or ague freeze, when
Rheumatics gnaw, or colic squeeze us,
15 Our neebors sympathise, to ease us, neighbours
Wi’ pitying moan;
But thou — the hell o’ a’ diseases,
They mock our groan.
O’ a’ the num’rous human dools, woes
20 Ill-hairsts, daft bargains, cutty-stools, bad harvests, public shaming
Or worthy frien’s laid i’ the mools, earth
Sad sight to see!
The tricks o’ knaves, or fash o’ fools, annoyance
Thou bear’st the gree. wins the prize
25 Whare’er that place be, priests ca’ Hell, wherever
Whare a’ the tones o’ misery yell, where
An’ plagues in ranked number tell
In deadly raw, row
Thou, Tooth-ache, surely bear’st the bell
30 Aboon them a’! above
O! thou grim, mischief-making chiel, chap/fellow
That gars the notes o’ discord squeel, makes
Till human-kind aft dance a reel often
In gore a shoe thick, blood
35 Gie a’ the faes o’ Scotland’s weal give all, foes
A TOWMOND’S TOOTHACHE! year’s
This work is undated, but its composition probably coincides with the poet’s letter of May 1795 where he describes suffering from an awful toothache in the following manner, that ‘fifty troops of infernal Spirits are riding post from ear to ear along my jaw-bones’ (Letter 671). This appeared first in the Belfast Newsletter, then a few days later, in The Morning Chronicle, 19th September, 1797. Burns had an avid, largely for political reasons, Ulster audience.