A Glass Of Good Wine Is A

I Like A Highland Friend Who Will Stand By Me Not Only When I Am In The Right, But When I Am A Little In The Wrong.

Breathes There The Man, With Soul So Dead, Who Never To Himself Hath Said, This Is My Own, My Native Land! Whose Heart Hath Ne'er Within Him Burn'd, As Home His Footsteps He Hath Turn'd From Wandering On A Foreign Strand! If Such There Breathe, Go Mark Him Well; For Him No Minstrel Raptures Swell; High Though His Titles, Proud His Name, Boundless His Wealth As Wish Can Claim; Despite Those Titles, Power, And Pelf, The Wretch, Concentred All In Self, Living, Shall Forfeit Fair Renown, And, Doubly Dying, Shall Go Down To The Vile Dust, From Whence He Sprung, Unwept, Unhonor'd, And Unsung.

The Paths Of Virtue, Though Seldom Those Of Worldly Greatness, Are Always Those Of Pleasantness And Peace.

All Men Who Have Turned Out Worth Anything Have Had The Chief Hand In Their Own Education.

Will Future Ages Believe That Such Stupid Bigotry Ever Existed!