To Make Three Guineas Do The Work

The Snowdrop And Primrose Our Woodlands Adorn, And Violets Bathe In The Wet O' The Morn.

My Heart 's In The Highlands, My Heart Is Not Here; My Heart 's In The Highlands A-chasing The Deer.

Again Rejoicing Nature Sees Her Robe Assume Its Vernal Hues Her Leafy Locks Wave In The Breeze, All Freshly Steep'd In The Morning Dews.

The Best Laid Schemes O' Mice An' Men Gang Aft Agley.

Painters And Poets Have Liberty To Lie.