Robert Burns

Man's inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn!

Man's inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn!

Mourn, little harebells, o'er the lea;
Ye stately foxgloves fair to see!
Ye woodbines, hanging bonnilie
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Mourn, little harebells, o'er the lea;
Ye stately foxgloves fair to see!
Ye woodbines, hanging bonnilie
In scented bowers!
Ye roses on your thorny tree
The first o' flow'rs.

She is a winsome wee thing,
She is a handsome wee thing,
She is a bonny wee read more

She is a winsome wee thing,
She is a handsome wee thing,
She is a bonny wee thing,
This sweet wee wife o' mine.

The landlord's laugh was ready chorus.

The landlord's laugh was ready chorus.

Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays.

Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays.