And Like A Passing Thought, She Fled

God Knows, I'm No The Thing I Should Be, Nor Am I Even The Thing I Could Be.

Oh, Stay, Sweet Warbling Woodlark, Stay, Nor Quit For Me The Trembling Spray, A Hapless Lover Courts Thy Lay, Thy Soothing, Fond Complaining.

Inspiring Bold Johnbarleycorn! What Dangers Thou Canst Make Us Scorn! Wi' Usquebae, We'll Face The Devil!

The Honest Man, Though E'er Sae Poor, Is King O' Men, For A' That!

Go Fetch To Me A Pint O' Wine, An' Fill It In A Silver Tassie.