We don’t often write or quote poetry here, but Burn’s poem struck a chord with me, especially since I had to battle silverfishes in my previous apartment. I’d freak out each time I saw one, thinking I’d wake up the next morning and half my book collection would be eaten… which is ridiculous, of course, although my imagination has a life of its own. Anyway, here is the poem titled The Book-Worms:
Through and through the inspired leaves,
Ye maggots, make your windings;
But, oh! respect his lordship’s taste,
And spare his golden bindings.