Morality, Thou Deadly Bane,thy Tens O' Thousands

Who Made The Heart, 'tis He Alone Decidedly Can Try Us

At Length His Lonely Cot Appears In View, Beneath The Shelter Of An Aged Tree; Th' Expectant Wee-things, Toddling, Stacher Thro' To Meet Their Dad, Wi' Flichterin Noise An' Glee.

God Knows, I'm No The Thing I Should Be, Nor Am I Even The Thing I Could Be.

Oh My Luve's Like A Red, Red Rose, That's Newly Sprung In June; Oh My Luve's Like The Melodie That's Sweetly Played In Tune.

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.