My heart is sair-I dare na tell, My heart is sair for Somebody.

Even every ray of hope destroyed and not a wish to gild the gloom.

Suspense is worst than disappointment.

Ye Hypocrites, are these your pranks To murder men and gie God thanks Desist for shame, proceed no further God won't accept your thanks for murder.

His locked, lettered, braw brass collar, Shewed him the gentleman and scholar.

My dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heav'n is sent, Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!

I want someone to laugh with me, someone to be grave with me, someone to please me and help my discrimination with his or her own remark, and at times, no doubt, to admire my acuteness and penetration.