When Matters Are Desperate We Must Put

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.

Suspense Is Worst Than Disappointment.

In Durance Vile 1here Must I Wake And Weep, And All My Frowsy Couch In Sorrow Steep.

My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose That's Newly Sprung In June: My Love Is Like The Melody That's Sweetly Played In Tune. How Fair Art Thou, My Bonnie Lass, So Deep In Love Am I; And I Will Love Thee Still, My Dear, Till All The Seas Gang Dry. Till All The Seas Gang Dry, My Dear, And The Rocks Melt With The Sun; I Will Love Thee Still, My Dear, While The Sands Of Life Shall Run. And Fare Thee Weel, My Only Love. And Fare Thee Weel Awhile! And I Will Come Again, My Love, Though It Were Ten Thousand Mile.

Some Books Are Lies Frae End To End.