The Sheepdog and the Lamb

When Ah regard mah ickle flock

Ah reco’nize each scar an’ pock

On sheepy visage standin’ there

Fra’ dolefu’ eyes ta woollen hair

Each looks th’ likeness o’ anither

As if each ta' each war sister'n brither

A mere dug like me caint keep in view

The diff’rence ‘tween each ram an’ ewe

 Or li’l wee sheeplings ou’ i’ the snow

They could be goa's fer all Ah know!

But they sartainly take care, one fer th’ ither

E’en in winter’s damne-ploorable wither

Ye'll grant sheepies this much, that ye can:

Sheep’s better ta’ sheep than man is ta’ man.

See ‘em, aw hooddled togither ta avoid th’ cauld

They bleat out their luve ta young n’ ta auld!

Et’cept Ah see one sheepling ou’ on the lea

‘Oo’s no’ been met wi’ courtesy

‘Is face wars seen i’ a woolf’s lair

Now sheep is back, but ‘is face-- still there

Fer there’s no croolty greater’n one ‘ats bent

On ‘arming a critter whats inno-cent

After doin’ wha’ evil a woolf’s wont ta’ do

He sent back this sheep ta’ its mother ewe

An’ relieved ta’ recover its ain sheep kin

The sheep knew it war safe fra’ inscru’able sin

But bein,’ like aw sheep, o’ limi’ed brain size

These kin their own lamb dinnae rec’nize

And they hoodled much closer-- those what were left

While li’l wee sheepie wars then aw’ bereft

And couldn’t rely on ‘is brither nor frien’

E’en arfter escaping a bru’al woolf’s den!
If thar's one sight a sheepie caint stan' ta' see
It's the sight o' ovine misery
An' ta' avoid it they wou' abolish aw sin
But failin' tha' ignore their ain suff'rin' kin.

Oh li’l sheep cub Ah would spare ye this pain

And raise ye jus' like ye war mah ver’ ain

But Ah'm afeard we can expe't no better fra' sheeps

'Oo aren't known ta' untell'gent comp'ny keep

We cannae ask such sheeps ta’ pause an’ reflect--

Being critters, ye know, o’ sma’ intellect--

Whe’ e’en wiser critters-- such as you an’ me

We too starve our yung on abandoned lea

And hoodle togither ta’ escape th’ storm

And blin’ ourseln to th’ one ‘oos forlorn.

Wha’ causes me ta’ wake in the mi’l o’ the nigh’

And star’ up fra’ dreams aw a-scared an’ affright

Is tha’ had it been mah ain injur’d pup or whelp

‘Oo was cryin’ ou’ there wi’ou’ any help

Whose calls ha’ no answer but a corpse's echo

Whe’er fra’ Dog up above or dug here below--

Would Ah ha’ done better ta’ such a wee ‘un

Than what them dimwitted sheepies ha' done?