Threatened Folk Live Long.

What Skilful Limner E'er Would Choose To Paint The Rainbow's Varying Hues, Unless To Mortal It Were Given To Dip His Brush In Dyes Of Heaven?

Come Fill Up My Cup, Come Fill Up My Can, Come Saddle Your Horses, And Call Up Your Men; Come Open The West Port, And Let Me Gang Free, And It's Room For The Bonnets Of Bonny Dundee!

If A Faultless Poem Could Be Produced, I Am Satisfied It Would Tire The Critics Themselves; And Annoy The Whole Reading World With The Spleen.

Those Who Are Too Idle To Read, Save For The Purpose Of Amusement, May In These Works Acquire Some Acquaintance With History, Which, However Inaccurate, Is Better Than None.

When Thinking About Companions Gone, We Feel Ourselves Doubly Alone.