What's A' Your Jargon O'

The Trout In Yonder Wimpling Burn - That Glides, A Silver Dart, - And, Safe Beneath The Shady Thorn, - Defies The Anglers Art.

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.

They Never Sought In Vain That Sought The Lord Alright!

Pleasures Are Like Poppies Spread: You Seize The Flow'r, Its Bloom Is Shed.

It Is Cruelty To Be Humane To Rebels, And Humanity Is Cruelty.