Of All Vices, Drinking Is The Most

Jock, When Ye Hae Naething Else To Do, Ye May Be Aye Sticking In A Tree; It Will Be Growing, Jock, When Ye 're Sleeping.

Within That Awful Volume Lies The Mystery Of Mysteries!

Vacant Heart, And Hand, And Eye, Easy Live And Quiet Die.

I Envy Thee Not Thy Faith, Which Is Ever In Thy Mouth But Never In Thy Heart Nor In Thy Practice

'tis An Old Tale, And Often Told; But Did My Fate And Wish Agree, Ne'er Had Been Read, In Story Old, Of Maiden True Betray'd For Gold, That Loved, Or Was Avenged, Like Me!