Chords That Vibrate Sweetest Pleasure Thrill The

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.

But Pleasures Are Like Poppies Spread, You Seize The Flower, It's Bloom Is Shed; Or, Like The Snow-fall In The River, A Moment White, Then Melts Forever.

But Little Mouse, You Are Not Alone, In Proving Foresight May Be Vain: The Best Laid Schemes Of Mice And Men Go Often Askew, And Leave Us Nothing But Grief And Pain, For Promised Joy! Still You Are Blest, Compared With Me!

Mankind Is An Unco Squad And Muckle He May Grieve Thee.

Suspense Is Worst Than Disappointment.