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Firmness in enduring and exertion is a character I always wish to possess. I have always despised the whining yelp of complaint and cowardly resolve.

Hear, Land o' Cakes, and brither Scots, Frae Maidenkirk to Johnie Groat's;- If there's a hole in a' your coats, I rede you tent it: A chield's amang you takin notes, And, faith, he'll prent it.

Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye, She draigl't a' her petticoatie, Comin' through the rye . . . . Gin a body meet a body Comin' through the rye, Gin a body kiss a body Need a body cry?

Oh, stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay, Nor quit for me the trembling spray, A hapless lover courts thy lay, Thy soothing, fond complaining.

The landlord's laugh was ready chorus.

Then gently scan your brother man, Still gentler sister woman; Though they may gang a' kennin' wrang To step aside is human.

Liberty's in every blow! Let us do or die.

O Life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road, To wretches such as I.

Misled by Fancy's meteor-ray, By passion driven; But yet the light that led astray, Was light from Heaven.

The great Creator to revereMust sure become the creature;But still the preaching cant forbear,And ev'n the rigid feature:Yet ne'er with wits profane to rangeBe complaisance extended;An atheist laugh's a poor exchangeFor deity offended. - Epistle to a Young Friend, An.

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!A farewell, and then forever!Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,While the star of hope she leaves him?Me, nae cheerful twinkle lights me,Dark despair around benights me. - Ae Fond Kiss.

But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love forever.

Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly, Never met - or never parted, We had never been broken-hearted.

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!

A man's a man for a' that!

A prince can mak a belted knight, A marquis, duke, and a' that; But an honest man's aboon his might: Guid faith, he maunna fa' that.

The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that.

Man,--whose heaven-erected face The smiles of love adorn,-- Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn!

Cursed be the man, the poorest wretch in life, The crouching vassal, to the tyrant wife, Who has no will but by her high permission; Who has not sixpence but in her possession; Who must to her his dear friend's secret tell; Who dreads a curtain lecture worse than hell. Were such the wife had fallen to my part, I'd break her spirit or I'd break her heart.

The mother may forget the child That smiles sae sweetly on her knee; But I'll remember thee, Glencairn, And all that thou hast done for me!