To A Louse, On Seeing One On A Ladys Bonnet, At Church
wife's fioy;
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,
an' set your beauties a' abread!
ye little ken what cursed speed
the bstie'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!