Robert Burns's (?) 'To a midge'

Very exciting! Whilst work on the new sunhouse addition to the 100 years old Kirkhill House was proceeding, the builders discovered a piece of paper handwritten with what could be (or could not be) an unknown poem by the Scottish Bard. As near as I can to reading the much faded script, this is it ...




To a midge on a
summer’s day






Ye flittin’ fleein’ unseen thing

Risin’ like some spcck o’ dust

Borne up on microscopic wing

Come light on me, come do your worst




My red red bluid’s tae drink is yours

I shall not miss your drap o’ it

Whilst walking wi’ my lass outdoors

Some verse in mind as yet unwrit




It’s yours, this heath’ry, grassy land  

Just now nae breeze blaws ye away

Still, bonnie Jean I’ll tak her hand

And lay her doon amangst your hay




Ye midgy ticklin’ friend o’ oors

That needs the bluid to procreate

Ye are the smallest price to pay

For love sublime, I speculate




But stay! I didna count on this

One thousand of your kith and kin

To interrupt our lovers’ bliss,

Sharp needle points unwelcome in




Ye buzzin’ clouds o’ miscreants

Ye’ve frightened off the lovely girl

She’ll no return despite my wants

Around my face you bastards swirl




I’m hoppin’ roon, myself to dress

I’m wavin’, slappin’, cursin’ loud

Ye’ve had your fill to vast excess

Awa ye go ye nasty crowd




Ye flittin’ fleein’ unseen things

Risin’ like some storm o’ dust

Borne up on microscopic wings

Awa! ye’ve done your bluiidy worst.










PS by me:  Some say that, were it not for the midges, for Wester Ross read Milton Keynes