I Was Born A Scotsman And A

Land Of My Sires! What Mortal Hand Can E'er Untie The Filial Band That Knits Me To Thy Rugged Strand!

What An Ornament And Safeguard Is Humor! Far Better Than Wit For A Poet And Writer. It Is A Genius Itself, And So Defends From The Insanities.

Alas!... What Is It, Valiant Knight, Save An Offering Of Sacrifice To A Demon Of Vain Glory, And A Passing Through The Fire Of Moloch? What Remains To You As A Prize Of All The Blood You Have Spilled, Of All The Travail And Pain You Have Endured, Of All The Tears Which Your Deeds Have Caused, When Death Hath Broken The Strong Man's Spear, And Overtaken The Speed Of His War-horse?

A Sound Head, An Honest Heart, And An Humble Spirit Are The Three Best Guides Through Time And To Eternity.

Who O'er The Herd Would Wish To Reign, Fantastic, Fickle, Fierce, And Vain! Vain As The Leaf Upon The Stream, And Fickle As A Changeful Dream; Fantastic As A Woman's Mood, And Fierce As Frenzy's Fever'd Blood. Thou Many-headed Monster Thing, Oh Who Would Wish To Be Thy King!