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If there 's a hole in a' your coats, I rede ye tent it; A chiel 's amang ye takin' notes, And, faith, he 'll prent it.
Misled by fancy's meteor ray, By passion driven; But yet the light that led astray Was light from heaven.
All my fears and cares are of this world; if there is another, an honest man has nothing to fear from it.
Now a' is done that men can do, And a' is done in vain.
Here's to us, who's like us Damn few, and they're all dead.
Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white-then melts for ever . . .
Good Lord, what is man! for as simple he looks, Do but try to develop his books and his crooks, With his depths and his shallows, his good and his evil, All in all, he's a problem must puzzle the devil.
Inspiring bold JohnBarleycorn! What dangers thou canst make us scorn! Wi' usquebae, we'll face the devil!
The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn and wise to know And keenly felt the friendly glow And softer flame; But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name!
An atheist's laugh 's a poor exchange For Deity offended!
The landlord's laugh was ready chorus.
Some books are lies frae end to end.
I waive the quantum o' the sin, The hazard of concealing; But, och! it hardens a' within, And petrifies the feeling!
Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet To think how monie counsels sweet, How monie lengthened sage advices, The husband frae the wife despises.
Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victory! Now 's the day and now 's the hour; See the front o' battle lour.
Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious, O'er a' the ills o' life victorious.
Nature's law, That man was made to mourn. Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn! O Death, the poor man's dearest friend, The kindest and the best!
His locked, lettered, braw brass collar, Shewed him the gentleman and scholar.
As Tammie glow'red, amazed and curious, The mirth and fun grew fast and furious.
The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip To haud the wretch in order; But where ye feel your honour grip, Let that aye be your border.
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