How Wretched Is The Person Who Hangs

Dare To Be Honest And Fear No Labor.

O, Wad Some Power The Giftie Gie Us To See Oursels As Others See Us! It Wad Frae Monie A Blunder Free Us, An' Foolish Notion.

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.

The Trout In Yonder Wimpling Burn - That Glides, A Silver Dart, - And, Safe Beneath The Shady Thorn, - Defies The Anglers Art.

Your Lines, I Maintain It, Are Poetry, And Good Poetry.... Friendship... Had I Been So Blest As To Have Met With You In Time, Might Have Led Me - God Of Love Only Knows Where.