To A Mouse, On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough, November, 1785. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AAABAB CCCBCB DDDADA CCCCCC AAABAB BBBABA CCCBCE AAAFAF| Wee sleekit cow'rin' tim'rous beastie | A |
| O what a panic's in thy breastie | A |
| Thou need na start awa sae hasty | A |
| Wi' bickering brattle | B |
| I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee | A |
| Wi' murd'ring pattle | B |
| - | |
| I'm truly sorry man's dominion | C |
| Has broken nature's social union | C |
| An' justifies that ill opinion | C |
| Which makes thee startle | B |
| At me thy poor earth born companion | C |
| An' fellow mortal | B |
| - | |
| I doubt na whyles but thou may thieve | D |
| What then poor beastie thou maun live | D |
| A daimen icker in a thrave | D |
| 'S a sma' request | A |
| I'll get a blessin' wi' the lave | D |
| And never miss't | A |
| - | |
| Thy wee bit housie too in ruin | C |
| Its silly wa's the win's are strewin' | C |
| An' naething now to big a new ane | C |
| O' foggage green | C |
| An' bleak December's winds ensuin' | C |
| Baith snell and keen | C |
| - | |
| Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste | A |
| An' weary winter comin' fast | A |
| An' cozie here beneath the blast | A |
| Thou thought to dwell | B |
| 'Till crash the cruel coulter past | A |
| Out thro' thy cell | B |
| - | |
| That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble | B |
| Has cost thee mony a weary nibble | B |
| Now thou's turn'd out for a' thy trouble | B |
| But house or hald | A |
| To thole the winter's sleety dribble | B |
| An' cranreuch cauld | A |
| - | |
| But Mousie thou art no thy lane | C |
| In proving foresight may be vain | C |
| The best laid schemes o' mice an' men | C |
| Gang aft a gley | B |
| An' lea'e us nought but grief and pain | C |
| For promis'd joy | E |
| - | |
| Still thou art blest compar'd wi' me | A |
| The present only toucheth thee | A |
| But Och I backward cast my e'e | A |
| On prospects drear | F |
| An' forward tho' I canna see | A |
| I guess an' fear | F |
Robert Burns
(1)
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About To A Mouse, On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough, November, 1785.
To A Mouse, On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough, November, 1785. is a poem by Robert Burns. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.