Robert Burns’ poem about plowing up a mouse nest. I edited out enough 1600s Scottish brogue to get you through it. Most of “Ode to a Mouse”:
I truly sorrow man’s dominion, has broken nature’s social union, and justifies the ill opinion that makes thee startle, at me thy poor earth born companion and fellow mortal.
Thou saw the fields lay bare and waste, and weary winter coming fast, and cozy here beneith the blast, thou thought to dwell; Till crash, the cruel colter past, throw out thy cell.