Aye, McMurdo. The Immortal Memory is yours and it is known throughout the land of SOKS, that it is in good hands.

Oh, tiny timorous forlorn beast,
Oh why the panic in your breast ?
You need not dart away in haste
To some corn-rick
I'd never run and chase thee,
With murdering stick...

...But, mousie, thou art not alane,
In proving foresight may be in vain,
The best laid schemes of mice and men,
Go oft astray,
And leave us nought but grief and pain,
To rend our day.

Are the other "speeches" and toasts assigned? The Twa Lands, the Toast to the Lassies...http://www.robertburns.org/suppers/itinerary.shtml