I Waive The Quantum O' The Sin,

And Let Us Mind, Faint Heart Ne'er Wan A Lady Fair. Wha Does The Utmost That He Can Will Whyles Do Mair.

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.

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 Mauna Fa' That! . . . Then Let Us Pray That Come It May, As Come It Will For A' That, That Sense And Worth, O'er A' The Earth, May Bear The Gree And A' That. For A' That, And A' That, It's Comin' Yet, For A' That, When Man To Man, The World O'er, Shall Brithers Be For A' That.

The Fear O' Hell's A Hangman's Whip To Haud The Wretch In Order; But Where Ye Feel Your Honour Grip, Let That Aye Be Your Border.

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