My Son, These Maxims Make A Rule

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?

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.

Then Gently Scan Your Brother Man, Still Gentler Sister Woman; Though They May Gang A Kennin' Wrang, To Step Aside Is Human.

Suspense Is Worse Than Disappointment.

For Gold The Merchant Ploughs The Main, The Farmer Ploughs The Manor.