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But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane [you aren’t alone] In proving foresight may be vain: The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men Gang aft a-gley, [often go awry] An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain, For promised joy. Robert Burns
Bush poetry by Andrew Hull All night a noisy little mouse was keeping me awake, With that irritating little squeaky scratchy noise they make. And then at breakfast time …
