But With Morning Cool Repentance Came.

He Who Indulges His Sense In Any Excesses Renders Himself Obnoxious To His Own Reason; And, To Gratify The Brute In Him, Displeases The Man, And Sets His Two Natures At Variance.

A Few Drops Sprinkled On The Torch Of Love Make The Flame Blaze The Brighter.

Though Varying Wishes, Hopes, And Fears, Fever'd The Progress Of These Years, Yet Now, Days, Weeks, And Months But Seem The Recollection Of A Dream.

Jock, When Ye Hae Naething Else To Do, Ye May Be Aye Sticking In A Tree; It Will Be Growing, Jock, When Ye 're Sleeping.

Who, Noteless As The Race From Which He Sprung, Saved Others' Names, But Left His Own Unsung.