To a Louse

On Seeing One on a Lady’s Bonnet at Church HA! whare ye gaun, ye crawlin’ ferlie? Your impudence protects you sairly: I canna say but ye strunt rarely Owre gauze an’ lace; Though, faith! I fear ye dine but sparely On sic a place. Ye ugly, creepin’, blastit wonner, Detested, shunned by saunt an’ sinner, How dare you 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 baud you there, ye’re out o’ sight, Below the fatt’rels, snug an’ tight; Na, faith, ye yet! ye ’ll no be right Till ye ’ve got on it, The very tapmost tow’ring height O’ Miss’s bonnet. My sooth; right bauld ye set your nose out, As plump and gray as ony grozet; 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 surprised to spy You on an auld wife’s flannen toy; Or aiblins some bit duddie boy, On ’s wyliecoat; But Miss’s fine Lunardi, fie! How daur ye do ’t? O Jenny, dinna toss your head, An’ set your beauties a’ abread! Ye little ken what cursèd speed The blastie ’s makin’! Thae winks and finger-ends, I dread, Are notice takin’! O wad some power the giftie gie us To see oursel’s as others see us! It wad frae monie a blunder free us, And foolish notion: What airs in dress an’ gait wad lea’e us, And ev’n devotion!