Critics! Those cut-throat bandits in the paths of fame.

They never sought in vain that sought the Lord alright!

Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure Thrill the deepest notes of woe.

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

The best plans of men and mice often go awry.

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.

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.