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> To A Louse, One of my favorite Burns poems.
High Plains Drifter 
Posted: 28-Dec-2003, 09:03 PM
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ZodiacHolly

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To A Louse
On Seeing One On A Lady's Bonnet, At Church

HA! whaur 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.

Ye ugly, creepin, blastit wonner,
Detested, shunned by saunt an' sinner,
How daur ye set your fit fit upon her-
Sae fine a lady?
Gae somewhere else and seek your dinner
On some poor body.

Swith! in some beggar's haffet squattle;
There ye may creep' and sprawl, and sprattle,
Wi' ither kindred, jumping cattle,
In shoal and nations;
Whaur horn nor bane ne'er daur unsettle
Your thick plantations.

Now haud you there, ye're out of sight,
Below the fatt'rels, snug and tight;
Na, faith ye yet! ye'll no be right,
Till ye've got on it-
The verra tapmost, tow'rin height
O' Miss bonnet.

My sooth! right bauld ye set your nose out,
As plump an' grey as ony groset;
O for some rank, mercurial rozet;
Or fell, red smeddum,
I'd gie you a sic a hearty dose o't
Wad dress you droddum.

I wad na been surpris'd to spy
You on an auld wife's flainen toy;
Or aiblins some bit dubbie boy,
On's wyliecoat:
But Miss' fine Lunardi! fye!
How daur ye do't?

O Jeany, dinna toss your head,
An' set your beauties a' abread!
Ye little ken what cursed speed
The blasie's makin:
Thae winks an' finger-ends, I dread,
Are notice takin.

O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae mony a blunder free us,
An; foolish notion;
What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'eus,
An ev'n devotion.


This has been a favorite of mine for about forty-five years, and there may even be a message in there for us.




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maggiemahone1 
Posted: 29-Dec-2003, 05:19 PM
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laugh.gif laugh.gif laugh.gif That was funny! Makes my head itch!

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silverdragon 
Posted: 29-Dec-2003, 05:51 PM
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It's been a long time since I've read this one. Thanks for a laugh! and the thought, too. lol.gif


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Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?

    ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

My blog: Almost, but not quite, entirely unrelated to filmmaking
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