To a Mouse

7I'm truly sorry man's dominion

8Has broken Nature's social union,

9And justifies that ill opinion,

10Which makes thee startle

11At me, thy poor earth-born companion

12And fellow-mortal!

13I doubtna, whiles, but thou may thieve;

14What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!

15A daimen icker in a thrave

16'S a sma' request:

17I'll get a blessin' wi' the lave,

18And never miss 't!

19Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!

20Its silly wa's the win's are strewin'!

21And naething now to big a new ane

22O' foggage green,

23And bleak December's winds ensuin',

24Baith snell and keen!

25Thou saw the fields laid bare and waste,

26And weary winter comin' fast,

27And cozie here, beneath the blast,

28Thou thought to dwell,

29Till, crash! the cruel coulter passed

30Out through thy cell.

31That wee bit heap o' leaves and stibble

32Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!

33Now thou's turned out for a' thy trouble,

34But house or hald,

35To thole the winter's sleety dribble,

36And cranreuch cauld!

37But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,

38In proving foresight may be vain:

39The best-laid schemes o' mice and men

40Gang aft a-gley,

41And lea'e us naught but grief and pain,

42For promised joy.

43Still thou art blest, compared wi' me!

44The present only toucheth thee:

45But, och! I backward cast my e'e

46On prospects drear!

47And forward, though I canna see,

48I guess and fear.