But Mousie, thou art no thy lane
In proving foresight may be vain
The best-laid schemes o' mice an’ men
Gang aft agley
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain
For promis'd joy!

Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me!
The present only toucheth thee
But och! I backward cast my e'e
On prospects drear
An' forward, tho' I canna see
I guess an' fear

To listen to more spoken word click on the relevant poem
A Man's a Man.
My Love is Like a Red, Red, Rose.
Auld Lang Syne.
Epistle to Davie.
O were I on Parnassus Hill.
Tam o'Shanter.
To a Louse.
Ae Fond Kiss.

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