Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!Its silly wa's the win's are strewin':And naething, now, to big a new ane,O' foggage green!An' bleak December's wow gold winds ensuin'Baith snell an' keen!Thou saw the fields laid bare and wasteAn' weary winter comin' fast,An' cozie here, beneath the wow gold blast,Thou thought to dwell,Till, crash! the cruel coulter pastOut thro' thy cell.That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibbleHas cost thee mony a cheap wow gold weary nibble!Now thou's turned out, for a' thy trouble,But house or hald,To thole the winter's sleety wow gold dribbleAn' cranreuch cauld!
2009- 9- 5
Thy wee bit housie
