A foggy day in London Town
Had me low and had me down.
I viewed the morning with alarm.
The British Museum had lost its charm.

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

Wherefore I praised the dead which are already dead more than the living which are yet alive.

Oh, ye’ll tak’ the high road an’ I’ll tak’ the low road,
An’ I’ll be in Scotland before ye;
But me and my true love will never meet again,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.

We have seen the best of our time: machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our graves.