When Matters Are Desperate We Must Put

At Length His Lonely Cot Appears In View, Beneath The Shelter Of An Aged Tree; Th' Expectant Wee-things, Toddling, Stacher Thro' To Meet Their Dad, Wi' Flichterin Noise An' Glee.

But Little Mouse, You Are Not Alone, In Proving Foresight May Be Vain: The Best Laid Schemes Of Mice And Men Go Often Askew, And Leave Us Nothing But Grief And Pain, For Promised Joy! Still You Are Blest, Compared With Me!

The Fear O' Hell's A Hangman's Whip To Haud The Wretch In Order; But Where Ye Feel Your Honour Grip, Let That Aye Be Your Border.

All My Fears And Cares Are Of This World; If There Is Another, An Honest Man Has Nothing To Fear From It.

Suspense Is Worst Than Disappointment.