Now a' is done that men can do, And a' is done in vain.

Ambition is a meteor-gleam; Fame a restless airy dream; Pleasures, insects on the wing Round Peace, th' tend rest flow'r of spring.

All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn, Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.

O, my luve is like a red, red rose.

Affliction's sons are brothers in distress; A brother to relieve, how exquisite the bliss!

The landlord's laugh was ready chorus.

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