Our Pleasance Here Is All Vain Glory,

To God Be Humble, To Thy Friend Be Kind, And With Thy Neighbors Gladly Lend And Borrow; His Chance Tonight, It Maybe Thine Tomorrow.

I That In Heill Wes And Gladnes Am Trublit Now With Gret Seiknes And Feblit With Infermite: Timor Mortis Conturbat Me.* * Fear Of Death Troubles Me.

Gem Of All Joy, Jasper Of Jocundity.

Scotsmen Are Metaphisical And Emotional, They Are Sceptical And Mystical, They Are Romantic And Ironic, They Are Cruel And Tender, And Full Of Mirth And Despair.

Noble Men In The Quiet Of Morning Hear Indians Singing The Continent's Violent Requiem.