It 's Guid To Be Merry And

God Knows, I'm Not The Thing I Should Be, Nor Am I Even The Thing I Could Be, But Twenty Times I Rather Would Be An Atheist Clean, Than Under Gospel Colours Hid Be Just For A Screen.

The Best Laid Schemes O' Mice An' Men Gang Aft Agley.

What's Done We Partly May Compute, But Know Not What's Resisted.

Now Nature Hangs Her Mantle Green On Every Blooming Tree, And Spreads Her Sheets O'daisies White Out O'er The Grassy Lea.

Dweller In Yon Dungeon Dark, Hangman Of Creation, Mark! Who In Widow Weeds Appears, Laden With Unhonoured Years, Noosing With Care A Bursting Purse, Baited With Many A Deadly Curse?