Critics! Those Cut-throat Bandits In The Paths

And Wild-scatter'd Cowslips Bedeck The Green Dale.

Nae Man Can Tether Time Or Tide.

I Love Drinking Now And Then. It Defecates The Standing Pool Of Thought. A Man Perpetually In The Paroxysm And Fears Of Inebriety Is Like A Half-drowned Stupid Wretch Condemned To Labor Unceasingly In Water; But A Now-and-then Tribute To Bacchus Is Like The Cold Bath, Bracing And Invigorating.

O Scotia! My Dear, My Native Soil! For Whom My Warmest Wish To Heaven Is Sent

Love's First Snow-drop, Virgin Kiss.