O, My Luve Is Like

Gie Me Ae Spark O' Nature's Fire, That's A' The Learning I Desire.

Good Lord, What Is Man! For As Simple He Looks, Do But Try To Develop His Books And His Crooks, With His Depths And His Shallows, His Good And His Evil, All In All, He's A Problem Must Puzzle The Devil.

Nature's Law, That Man Was Made To Mourn. Man's Inhumanity To Man Makes Countless Thousands Mourn! O Death, The Poor Man's Dearest Friend, The Kindest And The Best!

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

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.