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

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