How Wretched Is The Person

O, Wad Some Power The Giftie Gie Us To See Oursels As Others See Us! It Wad Frae Monie A Blunder Free Us, An' Foolish Notion.

What's Done We Partly May Compute, But Know Not What's Resisted.

If There 's A Hole In A' Your Coats, I Rede Ye Tent It; A Chiel 's Amang Ye Takin' Notes, And, Faith, He 'll Prent It.

Now Simmer Blinks On Flowery Braes, And O'er The Chrystal Streamlets Plays; Come Let Us Spend The Lightsome Days In The Birks Of Aberfeldy.

Morality, Thou Deadly Bane, Thy Tens O' Thousands Thou Hast Slain! Vain Is His Hope, Whose Stay An' Trust Is In Moral Mercy, Truth, And Justice!