Here's to us, who's like us Damn few, and they're all dead.

Painters and poets have liberty to lie.

The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn and wise to know And keenly felt the friendly glow And softer flame; But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name!

From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs, That makes her loved at home, revered abroad: Princes and lords are but the breath of kings, "An honest man 's the noblest work of God."

I waive the quantum o' the sin, The hazard of concealing; But, och! it hardens a' within, And petrifies the feeling!

If there's another world, he lives in bliss; if there is none, he made the best of this.

The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.