The Norton Anthology of English literature. Volume 2

Wi' bickering brattle!2 5 I wad be laith� to rin an' chase thee loath Wi' murd'ring pattle!0 plowstaff

I'm truly sorry Man's dominion Has broken Nature's social union, An' justifies that ill opinion,

10 Which makes thee startle, At me, thy poor, earth-born companion, An' fellow mortal!

I doubt na, whyles,� but thou may thieve; sometimes What then? poor beastie, thou maun" live! must A daimen-icker in a thrave3

'S a sma' request: I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,� remainder An' never miss't!

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin! It's silly wa's� the win's are strewin! frail walls An' naething, now, to big� a new ane, build

O' foggage0 green! coarse grass An' bleak December's winds ensuin, Baith snell� an' keen! bitter

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 coulter0 past cutter blade Out thro' thy cell.

1. Burns's brother claimed that this poem was 2. With headlong scamper. composed while the poet was actually holding the 3. An occasional ear in twenty-four sheaves. plow.

 .

136 / ROBERT BURNS

That wee-bit heap o' leaves an' stibble0 stubble Has cost thee monie a weary nibble! Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,

But� house or hald,4 without To thole� the Winter's sleety dribble, endure An' cranreuch" cauld! hoarfrost

But Mousie, thou art no thy-lane,� not alone In proving foresight may be vain: The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men

40 Gang aft agley,5 An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain, For promis'd joy!

Still, thou art blest, compar'd wi' me! The present only toucheth thee: But Och! I backward cast my e'e,

On prospects drear! An' forward tho' I canna see, I guess an' fear!

1785 1786

To a Louse

On Seeing One on a Lady's Bonnet at Church

Ha! whare ye gaun, ye crowlan0 ferlie!0 crawling / wonder Your impudence protects you sairly:� sorely I canna say but ye strunt0 rarely, strut

Owre gawze and lace; 5 Tho' faith, I fear ye dine but sparely, On sic a place.

Ye ugly, creepan, blastet wonner,� wonder Detested, shunn'd, by saunt an' sinner, How daur ye set your fit� upon her, foot

10 Sae fine a Lady! Gae somewhere else and seek your dinner, On some poor body.

Swith,� in some beggar's haffet0 squattle;0 swift / locks /sprawl There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle,0 struggle 15 Wi' ither kindred, jumping cattle, In shoals and nations; Whare horn nor bane1 ne'er daur unsettle, Your thick plantations.

Now haud you there, ye're out o' sight, 20 Below the fatt'rels,0 snug and tight, ribbon ends

4. Hold, holding (i.e., land). 1. I.e., fine-tooth comb made of horn or bone 5. Go oft awry. ("bane").

 .

AUL D LAN G SYN E / 13 7 Na faith ye yet!2 ye'll no be right, Till ye've got on it, The vera tapmost, towrin height O' Miss's bonnet. My sooth! right bauld ye set your nose out, As plump an' gray as onie grozet:00 for some rank, mercurial rozet,� Or fell,� red smeddum,0I'd gie you sic a hearty dose o't, Wad dress your droddum!� gooseberry rosin sharp / powder buttocks 1 wad na been surpriz'd to spy

You on an auld wife's flainen toy,� flannel cap Or aiblins� some bit duddie0 boy, perhaps / ragged On's wylecoat;0 undershirt But Miss's fine Lunardi,3 fye! How daur ye do't?

O Jenny dinna toss your head, An' set your beauties a' abread!0 abroad Ye little ken what cursed speed

The blastie's0 makin! creature's Thae� winks and finger-ends, I dread, those Are notice takin!

O wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us To see oursels as others see us! It wad frae monie a blunder free us

An' foolish notion: What airs in dress an' gait wad Iea'e us, And ev'n Devotion!4

1785 1786

Auld Lang Syne1

Should auld acquaintance be forgot And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne!

Chorus

5 For auld lang syne, my jo, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet For auld lang syne.

2. Confound you! flights in the mid-1780s. 3. A balloon-shaped bonnet, named after Vin-4. I.e., even pretended piety. cenzo Lunardi, who made a number of balloon 1. Long ago.

 .

138 / ROBERT BURNS

And surely ye'll be� your pint stowp!0 pay for / pint cup And surely I'll be mine! And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne,

Chorus

We twa hae run about the braes� slopes And pou'd� the gowans0 fine; pulled / daisies But we've wander'd many a weary fitt, Sin� auld lang syne.

Chorus

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn0 stream Frae morning sun till dine;� dinner, noon But seas between us braid0 hae roar'd, broad

Sin auld lang syne.

Chorus

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere!� friend And gie's a hand o' thine! And we'll tak a right gude-willie-waught,� cordial drink For auld lang syne.

Chorus

1788 1796

Afton Water1

Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,� slopes Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise; My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.