't Is Sweeter For Thee Despairing Than

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

Liberty's In Every Blow! Let Us Do Or Die.

Dweller In Yon Dungeon Dark, Hangman Of Creation, Mark! Who In Widow Weeds Appears, Laden With Unhonoured Years, Noosing With Care A Bursting Purse, Baited With Many A Deadly Curse?

What's A' Your Jargon O' Your Schools, Your Latin Names For Horns And Stools; If Honest Nature Made You Fools.

O, My Luve Is Like A Red, Red Rose.