Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14. |
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| 261. The Wounded Hare |
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| INHUMAN man! curse on thy barb’rous art, | |
| And blasted be thy murder-aiming eye; | |
| May never pity soothe thee with a sigh, | |
| Nor ever pleasure glad thy cruel heart! | |
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| Go live, poor wand’rer of the wood and field! | 5 |
| The bitter little that of life remains: | |
| No more the thickening brakes and verdant plains | |
| To thee a home, or food, or pastime yield. | |
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| Seek, mangled wretch, some place of wonted rest, | |
| No more of rest, but now thy dying bed! | 10 |
| The sheltering rushes whistling o’er thy head, | |
| The cold earth with thy bloody bosom prest. | |
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| Perhaps a mother’s anguish adds its woe; | |
| The playful pair crowd fondly by thy side; | |
| Ah! helpless nurslings, who will now provide | 15 |
| That life a mother only can bestow! | |
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| Oft as by winding Nith I, musing, wait | |
| The sober eve, or hail the cheerful dawn, | |
| I’ll miss thee sporting o’er the dewy lawn, | |
| And curse the ruffian’s aim, and mourn thy hapless fate. | 20 |
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