Gars Auld Claes Look Amaist

Mankind Is A Science That Defies Definitions.

Not The Bee Upon The Blossom, In The Pride O' Sunny Noon; Not The Little Sporting Fairy, All Beneath The Simmer Moon; Not The Poet, In The Moment Fancy Lightens In His E'e, Kens The Pleasure, Feels The Rapture, That Thy Presence Gi'es To Me.

In Durance Vile 1here Must I Wake And Weep, And All My Frowsy Couch In Sorrow Steep.

Now A' Is Done That Men Can Do, And A' Is Done In Vain.

Just Now I've Taen The Fit O' Rhyme / My Barmie Noddle's Working Prime.