- TO A MOUSE
- ON TURNING HER UP IN HER NEST WITH THE PLOUGH, NOVEMBER, 1785
I 
EE, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie, - Oh, what a panic's in thy breastie!
- Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
- Wi' bickering brattle!
- I was be laith to rin an' chase thee,
- Wi' murd'ring pattle!
II - I'm truly sorry man's dominion
- Has broken Nature's social union,
- An' justifies that ill opinion
- Which makes thee startle
- At me, thy poor, earth-born companion
- An' fellow-mortal!
III - I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
- What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
- A daimen-icker in a thrave
- 'S a sma' request;
- I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
- And never miss't!
IV - Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
- Its silly wa's the win's are strewin!
- An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
- O' foggage green!
- An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
- Baith snell an' keen!
V - Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
- An' weary winter comin fast,
- An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
- Thou thought to dwell,
- Till crash! the cruel coulter past
- Out thro' thy cell.
VI - That wee bit heap o' leaves an stibble,
- Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
- Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
- But house or hald,
- To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
- An' cranreuch cauld!
VII - But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
- In proving foresight may be vain:
- The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
- Gang aft a-gley,
- An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
- For promis'd joy!
VIII - Still thou art blest, compared wi' me!
- The present only toucheth thee:
- But och! I backward cast my e'e,
- On prospects drear!
- An' forward, tho' I cannot see,
- I guess an' fear!
Source:
http://www.poetry-archive.com/b/to_a_mouse.html
Robert Burns by Alexander Nasmyth
(By permission of the National Galleries of Scotland)
(By permission of the National Galleries of Scotland)
