TO A LOUSE, On Seeing one on a Lady's Bonnet at Church. Robert Burns Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T91548 Burns, Robert, 1759-1796. POEMS, CHIEFLY IN THE SCOTTISH DIALECT, BY ROBERT BURNS. Kilmarnock printed by John Wilson, M,DCC,LXXXVI. 1786 pp. 192-194. 240p.; 8⁰.

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TO A LOUSE , On Seeing one on a Lady's Bonnet at Church . HA ! whare ye gaun , ye crowlan ferlie ! Your impudence protects you sairly : I canna say but ye strunt rarely , Owre gawze and lace ; Tho' faith , I fear ye dine but sparely , On sic a place . Ye ugly , creepan , blastet wonner , Detested , shunn'd , by saunt an' sinner , How daur ye set your 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 shoals and nations ; Whare horn nor bane ne'er daur unsettle , Your thick plantations . Now haud you there , ye're out o' sight , Below the fatt'rels , snug and tight , Na faith ye yet ! 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 : O fer some rank , mercurial rozet , Or fell , red smeddum , I'd gie you sic a hearty dose o't , Wad dress your droddum ! I wad na been surpriz'd to spy You on an auld wife's flainen toy ; Or aiblins some bit duddie boy , On's wylecoat ; But Miss's fine Lunardi , fye ! How daur ye do't ? O Jenny dinna toss your head , An' set your beauties a' abread ! Ye little ken what cursed speed The blastie's makin ! Thae winks and finger-ends , I dread , 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 lea'e us , And ev'n Devotion !