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But her, my bonny, sweet, wee lady,
I've said enough for her already,
And gin ye tax her or her mither,
By the L—d ye's get them a' thegither!

And now remember, Mr. Aiken,
Nae kind of licence out I'm takin;
Thro' dirt and dub for life I'll paidle,
E'er I sae dear pay for a saddle:
I've sturdy stumps, the L—d bethankit,
And a' my gates on foot I'll shank it.

This list wi' my ain hand I wrote it,
The day and date as under-notit;
Then know all ye whom it concerns,
Subscripsi huic,Robert Burns

Mossgiel, Feb. 22. 1786.

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TO A MOUSE,

On turning up her Nest with the Plough, Nov. 1783.

Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie,
O what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou needna start awa sae hastie
Wi' bickerin brattle;
I wad be laith to rin and chase thee
Wi' murd'rin pattle.

I'm truly sorry Man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,