Burns Day

[keehah]

(yesterday)

[woodman]

I've always loved Burn's poetry. "Ode to a Fieldmouse" is a great one. Here is the last bit of it.

Your wee bit heap of leaves and stubble,
Had cost thee many a weary nibble.
Now you're turned out for all thy trouble
Of house and home
To bear the winter's sleety drizzle,
And hoar frost cold.

But, mousie, thou art not alane,
In proving foresight may be in vain,
The best laid schemes of mice and men,
Go oft astray,
And leave us nought but grief and pain,
To rend our day.

Still thou art blessed, compared with me!
The present only touches thee,
But, oh, I backward cast my eye
On prospects drear,
And forward, though I cannot see,
I guess and fear

[Celtic Rogue]

http://www.macsween.co.uk/media/78404/burnsfaqs_Main%20Crop.jpg