O what a panic's in thy breastie！
Thou need na start awa sae hasty
Wi' bickerin' brattle！
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee 5
Wi' murd'rin' pattle！
I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union
An' justifies that ill opinion
Which makes thee startle 10
At me thy poor earth-born companion
An' fellow-mortal！
I doubt na whiles but thou may thieve：
What then？ poor beastie thou maun live！
A daimen-icker in a thrave 15
'S a sma' request：
I'll get a blessin' wi' the lave
An' never miss't！
Thy wee bit housie too in ruin！
Its silly wa's the win's are strewin'； 20
An' naething now to big a new ane
O' foggage green！
An' bleak December's winds ensuin'
Baith snell an' keen！
Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste 25
An' weary winter comin' fast
An' cozie here beneath the blast
Thou thought to dwell—
Till crash！ the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell. 30
That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble！
Now thou's turn'd out for a' thy trouble
But house or hald
To thole the winter's sleety dribble 35
An' cranreuch cauld！
But Mousie thou art no thy lane
In proving foresight may be vain：
The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley 40
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain
For promised joy.
Still thou art blest compar'd wi' me！
The present only toucheth thee：
But och！ I backward cast my e'e 45
On prospects drear！
An' forward tho' I canna see
I guess an' fear！