Some Books Are Lies Frae End To

By Oppression's Woes And Pains! By Your Sons In Servile Chains! We Will Drain Our Dearest Veins, But They Shall Be Free! Lay The Proud Usurpers Low! Tyrants Fall In Every Foe! Liberty's In Every Blow! Let Us Do Or Die!

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.

Some Wee Short Hour Ayont The Twal.

It Is Cruelty To Be Humane To Rebels, And Humanity Is Cruelty.

And Let Us Mind, Faint Heart Ne'er Wan A Lady Fair. Wha Does The Utmost That He Can Will Whyles Do Mair.