If Naebody Care For Me,i'll

Even Thou Who Mournst The Daisy's Fate, That Fate Is Thine--no Distant Date; Stern Ruin's Ploughshare Drives, Elate, Full On Thy Bloom, Till Crushed Beneath The Furrow's Weight Shall Be Thy Doom!

The Best Plans Of Men And Mice Often Go Awry.

Ye Hypocrites, Are These Your Pranks To Murder Men And Gie God Thanks Desist For Shame, Proceed No Further God Won't Accept Your Thanks For Murder.

Pleasures Are Like Poppies Spread: You Seize The Flow'r, Its Bloom Is Shed.

Go Fetch To Me A Pint O' Wine, An' Fill It In A Silver Tassie.