The Wise-Like Chap
Aye, billies, I’m a wise-like chap,I dinna smoke nor drink,And gin I gi’e my poke a slapYe’ll hear the siller chink.My feyther has an aicht-pair fairmWeel set wi’ byre an’ stack;There’s mony will obey meAn’ tak’ their pattern frae me,But Annie winna hae meAn’ my he’rt’s near brak’!
My Grannie’s saved a bit hersel’,She’s three-score year an’ ten,Wha’ll get the profit nane can tell(An’ yet I think I ken!)It’s fules wad cross a rich auld wife,Sae a’ her fleers I tak’,An’ tho’ it’s like to pay me,Richt little guid ’twill dae me,For Annie winna hae meAn’ my he’rt’s near brak’!
Ye’ll mebbe mind the miller’s loonThat was a fair disgrace;His auld dune hat was clour’d abuneAn’ mill-dust on his face.The gowk! He gaed awa to fechtAnd syne cam’ crippl’t back;Yestre’en he passed my GrannieWi’ his left airm bandig’t cannie--But his richt ane happit Annie,An’ my he’rt’s near brak’!
Words in this poem
- weel
- A kind of trap or snare for fish, made of twigs. Carew. [Prov. E. weel, weal, a wicker basket to catch eels; prob. akin to willow, and so called as made of willow twigs.]
- byre n.
- A cow house. [N. of Eng.& Scot.] [Cf, Icel. bür pantry, Sw. bur cage,Dan. buur, E.bower.]
- auld a.
- Old; as, Auld Reekie (old smoky), i. e., Edinburgh. [See Old.]
- twill v. i.
- To weave, as cloth, so as to produce the appearance of diagonal lines or ribs on the surface. [Scotch tweel; probably from LG. twillen to make double, from twi- two; akin to AS. twi-, E. twi- in twilight. See Twice, and cf. Tweed, Tweel.]
- dune n.
- A low hill of drifting sand usually formed on the coats, but often carried far inland by the prevailing winds. [The same word as down: cf. D. duin. See Down a bank of sand.]
- gowk v. t.
- To make a, booby of one); to stupefy. B. Jonson. [See Gawk.]
- syne adv.
- Afterwards; since; ago. R. of Brunne. [See Since.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Wise-Like Chap is in the public domain. This text is taken from Bonnie Joann, and other poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #69484; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Violet Jacob, The Wise-Like Chap, in Bonnie Joann, and Other Poems (1921), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #69484, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/jacob-bonnie-joann/the-wise-like-chap.html, id L21950.
Form and metre
The Wise-Like Chap is 30 lines in 3 stanzas of 10 lines each. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%).
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABAB--CCC- chapA · drinkB · slapA · chinkB · fairm · stack · meC · meC · meC · brak
- 2 -A-A--BBB- hersel · tenA · tell · kenA · wife · tak · meB · meB · meB · brak
- 3 -A-A--BBB- loon · disgraceA · abune · faceA · fecht · back · grannieB · cannieB · annieB · brak
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Aye, billies, I’m a wise-like chap, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| I dinna smoke nor drink, | 6 | ······ |
| And gin I gi’e my poke a slap | 8 | ········ |
| Ye’ll hear the siller chink. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| My feyther has an aicht-pair fairm | 8 | ········ |
| Weel set wi’ byre an’ stack; | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| There’s mony will obey me | 7 | ·/˘·˘/· |
| An’ tak’ their pattern frae me, | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| But Annie winna hae me | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| An’ my he’rt’s near brak’! | 5 | ····· |
| My Grannie’s saved a bit hersel’, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| She’s three-score year an’ ten, | 6 | ······ |
| Wha’ll get the profit nane can tell | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| (An’ yet I think I ken!) | 6 | ······ |
| It’s fules wad cross a rich auld wife, | 8 | ········ |
| Sae a’ her fleers I tak’, | 6 | ······ |
| An’ tho’ it’s like to pay me, | 7 | ······· |
| Richt little guid ’twill dae me, | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| For Annie winna hae me | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| An’ my he’rt’s near brak’! | 5 | ····· |
| Ye’ll mebbe mind the miller’s loon | 7 | ····/˘· |
| That was a fair disgrace; | 6 | ····˘/ |
| His auld dune hat was clour’d abune | 8 | ········ |
| An’ mill-dust on his face. | 6 | ······ |
| The gowk! He gaed awa to fecht | 8 | ········ |
| And syne cam’ crippl’t back; | 5 | ····· |
| Yestre’en he passed my Grannie | 8 | ····˘··· |
| Wi’ his left airm bandig’t cannie-- | 8 | ········ |
| But his richt ane happit Annie, | 8 | ······/˘ |
| An’ my he’rt’s near brak’! | 5 | ····· |
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