For those who found a mouse in the tomatoes on Friday

An excerpt from an old poem for you, to be read with your finest Scottish accents:

To A Mouse
on turning up her nest with a plow, November 1785

by Robert Burns
(Or also, To a Certain Bunny, by Melissa)

Wee sleekit, tim'rous, cow'ring beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murdering pattle!

I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow mortal!

I doubt na, sometimes, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A [bit of grain] in a thrave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get a blessing wi' the lave
And never miss it!