Serious poetry

Tony Blair is visiting Edinburgh and decides to grace a hospital with his presence. He enters a ward full of patients with no obvious sign of injury or illness, and he goes to the first bed and greets the occupant. The patient replies:

"Fair fa your honest sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin race,
Aboon them a ye take yer place,
Painch, tripe or thairm,
As langs my airm."

Blair is bemused, so he just grins and moves on to the next patient, and greets him. The patient responds:

"Some hae meat an canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat an we can eat,
So let the Lord be thankit."

Now rather more bemused, his rictus-like grin hardening, the PM moves on to the next patient, who immediately begins to chant:

"Wee sleekit, cowerin, timrous beasty,
O the panic in thy breasty,
Thou needna start awa sae hastie,
Wi bickering brattle."

Now seriously troubled, Blair turns to the accompanying doctor and asks "Is this a psychiatric ward?"

"No," replies the doctor, "this is the Serious Burns unit!"