Explore "Address to the Toothache" by Robert Burns on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
My curse upon your venom'd stang, / That shoots my tortur'd gums alang, / An' thro' my lug gies mony a twang, / Wi' gnawing vengeance, / Tearing my nerves wi' bitter pang, / Like racking engines!
When fevers burn, or argues freezes, / Rheumatics gnaw, or colics squeezes, / Our neibor's sympathy can ease us, / Wi' pitying moan; / But thee-thou hell o' a' diseases- / Aye mocks our groan.