1 This fell when dinner-time was done— ’Twixt the first an’ the second rub— That oor mon Jock cam’ hame again To his rooms ahint the Club. 2 An’ syne he laughed, an’ syne he sang, An’ syne we thocht him fou, An’ syne he trumped his partner’s trick, An’ garred his partner rue. 3 Then up and spake an elder mon, That held the Spade its Ace— God save the lad! Whence comes the licht “That wimples on his face?” 4 An’ Jock he sniggered, an’ Jock he smiled, An’ ower the card-brim wunk:— “I’m a’ too fresh fra’ the stirrup-peg, “May be that I am drunk.” 5 “There’s whusky brewed in Galashils “An’ L.L.L. forbye; “But never liquor lit the lowe “That keeks fra’ oot your eye. 6 “There’s a thrid o’ hair on your dress-coat breast, “Aboon the heart a wee?” “Oh! that is fra’ the lang-haired Skye “That slobbers ower me.” 7 “Oh! lang-haired Skyes are lovin’ beasts, “An’ terrier dogs are fair, “But never yet was terrier born, “Wi’ ell-lang gowden hair! 8 “There’s a smirch o’ pouther on your breast, “Below the left lappel?” “Oh! that is fra’ my auld cigar, “Whenas the stump-end fell.” 9 “Mon Jock, ye smoke the Trichi coarse, “For ye are short o’ cash, “An’ best Havanas Couldna leave “Sae white an’ pure an ash. 10 “This nicht ye stopped a story braid, “An’ stopped it wi’ a curse. “Last nicht ye told that tale yoursel’— “An’ capped it wi' a worse! 11 “Oh! we’re no fou! Oh! we’re no fou! “But plainly we can ken “Ye’re fallin’, fallin’ fra the band “O’ cantie single men!” 12 An’ it fell when sirris-shaws were sere, An’ the nichts were lang and mirk, In braw new breeks, wi’ a gowden ring, Or Jocke gaed to the Kirk!
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