Love's First Snow-drop, Virgin Kiss.

Just Now I've Taen The Fit O' Rhyme / My Barmie Noddle's Working Prime.

All-cheering Plenty, With Her Flowing Horn, Led Yellow Autumn, Wreath'd With Nodding Corn.

A Mind That Is Conscious Of Its Integrity Scorns To Say More Than It Means To Perform.

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.

If There 's A Hole In A' Your Coats, I Rede Ye Tent It; A Chiel 's Amang Ye Takin' Notes, And, Faith, He 'll Prent It.