Some Wee Short Hour Ayont

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

Such Is The Fate Of Simple Bard, On Life's Rough Ocean Luckless Starr'd

They Never Sought In Vain That Sought The Lord Alright!

Nature's Law, That Man Was Made To Mourn. Man's Inhumanity To Man Makes Countless Thousands Mourn! O Death, The Poor Man's Dearest Friend, The Kindest And The Best!

Morality, Thou Deadly Bane,thy Tens O' Thousands Thou Has Slain!