Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The Worlds Best Poetry. Volume V. Nature. 1904. | | | | VI. Animate Nature | | To a Mouse | | Robert Burns (17591796) |
| | On Turning Her up in Her Nest with the Plough, November, 1785 |
| WEE, sleekit, cowerin, timorous beastie, | |
| O, what a panic s in thy breastie! | |
| Thou needna start awa sae hasty, | |
| Wi bickering brattle! | |
| I wad be laith to rin an chase thee, | 5 |
| Wi murdering pattle! | |
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| I m truly sorry mans dominion | |
| Has broken natures social union, | |
| An justifies that ill opinion | |
| Which makes thee startle | 10 |
| At me, thy poor earth-born companion, | |
| An fellow-mortal! | |
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| I doubtna, whyles, but thou may thieve; | |
| What then? poor beastie, thou maun live! | |
| A daimen-icker 1 in a thrave 2 | 15 |
| S a sma request; | |
| I ll get a blessin wi the lave, | |
| And never miss t! | |
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| Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin! | |
| Its silly was the wins are strewin! | 20 |
| An naething now to big a new ane | |
| O foggage green! | |
| An bleak Decembers winds ensuin, | |
| Baith snell and keen! | |
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| Thou saw the fields laid bare an waste, | 25 |
| An weary winter comin fast, | |
| An cozie here, beneath the blast, | |
| Thou thought to dwell, | |
| Till, crash! the cruel coulter past | |
| Out through thy cell. | 30 |
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| That wee bit heap o leaves an stibble | |
| Has cost thee mony a weary nibble! | |
| Now thou s turned out, for a thy trouble, | |
| But house or hald, | |
| To thole the winters sleety dribble, | 35 |
| An cranreuch 3 cauld! | |
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| 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, | 40 |
| An leae us naught but grief and pain, | |
| For promised joy. | |
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| Still thou art blest, compared wi me! | |
| The present only toucheth thee: | |
| But, och! I backward cast my ee | 45 |
| On prospects drear; | |
| An forward, though I canna see, | |
| I guess an fear. | |
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