 | The Poetry of Robert Burns |  |
TO A LOUSE
ON SEEING ONE ON A LADY'S BONNET AT CHURCH
I
Ha! whare ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie?Your impudence protects you sairly,
I canna say but ye strunt rarely
Owre gauze and lace,
Tho' faith! I fear ye dine but sparely
On sic a place.
II
Ye ugly, creepin, blastit wonner,Detested, shunn'd by saunt an' sinner,
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Sae fine a lady!
Gae somewhere else and seek your dinner
On some poor body.
III
Swith! in some beggar's hauffet squattle:There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle,
Wi' ither kindred, jumping cattle,
In shoals and nations;
Whare horn nor bane ne'er daur unsettle
Your thick plantations.
IV
Now haud you there! ye're out o' sight,Below the fatt'rils, snug an' tight;
Na, faith ye yet! ye'll no be right,
Till ye've got on it—
The vera tapmost, tow'ring height
O' Miss's bonnet.
V
My sooth! right bauld ye set your nose out,As plump an' grey as onie grozet:
O for some rank, mercurial rozet,
Or fell, red smeddum,
I'd gie ye sic a hearty dose o't,
Wad dress your droddum.
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VI
I wad na been surpris'd to spyYou on an auld wife's flainen toy;
Or aiblins some bit duddie boy,
On's wyliecoat;
But Miss's fine Lunardi! fye!
How daur ye do't?
VII
O Jenny, dinna toss your head,An' set your beauties a' abread!
Ye little ken what cursèd speed
The blastie's makin!
Thae winks an' finger-ends, I dread,
Are notice takin!
VIII
O wad some Power the giftie gie usTo see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us,
An' foolish notion:
What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us,
An' ev'n devotion!
| The Poetry of Robert Burns | |