The Best-laid Plans Of Mice And Men

Gars Auld Claes Look Amaist As Weel's The New.

I Love Drinking Now And Then. It Defecates The Standing Pool Of Thought. A Man Perpetually In The Paroxysm And Fears Of Inebriety Is Like A Half-drowned Stupid Wretch Condemned To Labor Unceasingly In Water; But A Now-and-then Tribute To Bacchus Is Like The Cold Bath, Bracing And Invigorating.

At Length His Lonely Cot Appears In View, Beneath The Shelter Of An Aged Tree; Th' Expectant Wee-things, Toddling, Stacher Thro' To Meet Their Dad, Wi' Flichterin Noise An' Glee.

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.

O Scotia! My Dear, My Native Soil! For Whom My Warmest Wish To Heaven Is Sent