Not all of us, maybe, but too many.

And a' the time, God help us, we were like those folk that dwell in their wee hooses on the slopes of Vesuvius--puir folk and wee hooses that may be swept awa' any day by an eruption of the volcano.
All wasna sae richt and weel wi' the world as we thought it in you days.

We'd closed our een to much of bitterness and hatred and malice that was loose and seeking victims in the hearts of men.

Aye, it was the Hun loosed the war upon us.

It was he who was responsible for the calamity that overtook the world--and that will mak' him suffer maist of all in the end, as is but just and richt.