When Chill November's Surly Blast Made Fields

How Wretched Is The Person Who Hangs On By The Favors Of The Powerful.

O Life! Thou Art A Galling Load, Along A Rough, A Weary Road, To Wretches Such As I!

Some Books Are Lies Frae End To End.

Affliction's Sons Are Brothers In Distress; A Brother To Relieve, How Exquisite The Bliss!

Their Sighing, Canting, Grace-proud Faces, Their Three-mile Prayers, And Half-mile Graces.