Page:Elegy on Jamie Gemmill, tailor.pdf/7

 Wi' drinkin’ o’ whisky ;

An' wi’ needle an’ thread

Was fu' nimle.

But ae day alas!

When takin' a glass.

Death cam and awa

Wi' him jumpet;

An’ noo here he lies,

Till the dead shall arise,

At the soun' o' the

Archangel’s trumpet.