T A Luse, On Seeing One On A Lads Bn
to a louse, on seeing one on a lady's bo, at church
ha! whaur ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie?
your impudence protects you sairly;
i a say but ye strunt rarely,
auze and lace;
tho', faith! i fear ye di sparely
on sic a place.
ye ugly, creepin, blastit 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;
whaur horn nor bane ne'er daur ule
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 verra tapmost, tow'ri
o' miss' bo.
my sooth! right bauld ye set your ,
as plump an' grey as ony groset:
o for 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 surpris'd to spy
you on an auld wife's flaioy;
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,
a your beauties a' abread!
ye little ken what cursed speed
the blastie'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'e us,
an' ev'ion!
ha! whaur ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie?
your impudence protects you sairly;
i a say but ye strunt rarely,
auze and lace;
tho', faith! i fear ye di sparely
on sic a place.
ye ugly, creepin, blastit 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;
whaur horn nor bane ne'er daur ule
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 verra tapmost, tow'ri
o' miss' bo.
my sooth! right bauld ye set your ,
as plump an' grey as ony groset:
o for 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 surpris'd to spy
you on an auld wife's flaioy;
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,
a your beauties a' abread!
ye little ken what cursed speed
the blastie'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'e us,
an' ev'ion!