Jock, When Ye Hae Naething Else To

Merrily, Merrily Goes The Bark On A Breeze From The Northward Free, So Shoots Through The Morning Sky The Lark, Or The Swan Through The Summer Sea.

Look Not Thou On Beauty's Charming; Sit Thou Still When Kings Are Arming; Taste Not When The Wine-cup Glistens; Speak Not When The People Listens

I Will But Confess The Sins Of My Green Cloak To My Grey Friar's Frock, And All Shall Be Well Again.

It Is Wonderful What Strength Of Purpose And Boldness And Energy Of Will Are Roused By The Assurance That We Are Doing Our Duty.

The Book Of Books Within This Ample Volume Lies The Mystery Of Mysteries. Happiest They Of Human Race To Whom Their God Has Given Grace To Read, To Fear, To Hope, To Pray, To Lift The Latch, To Force The Way; But Better Had They Ne'er Been Born That Read To Doubt Or Read To Scorn.