Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936). Verse: 1885–1918. 1922.
The Fall of Jock Gillespie
T
’Twixt the first an’ the second rub—
That oor mon Jock cam’ hame again
To his rooms ahint the Club.
An’ syne we thocht him fou,
An’ syne he trumped his partner’s trick,
An’ garred his partner rue.
That held the Spade its Ace—
“God save the lad! Whence comes the licht
“That wimples on his face?”
An’ ower the card-brim wunk:—
“I’m a’ too fresh fra’ the stirrup-peg,
“May be that I am drunk.”
“An’ L. L. L. forbye;
“But never liquor lit the lowe
“That keeks fra’ oot your eye.
“Aboon the heart a wee?”
“Oh! that is fra’ the lang-haired Skye
“That slobbers ower me.”
“An’ terrier dogs are fair,
“But never yet was terrier born,
“Wi’ ell-lang gowden hair!
“Below the left lappel?”
“Oh! that is fra’ my auld cigar,
“Whenas the stump-end fell.”
“For ye are short o’ cash,
“An’ best Havanas couldna leave
“Sae white an’ pure an ash.
“An’ stopped it wi’ a curse.
“Last nicht ye told that tale yoursel’—
“An’ capped it wi’ a worse!
“But plainly we can ken
“Ye’re fallin’, fallin’ fra the band
“O’ cantie single men!”
An’ the nichts were lang and mirk,
In braw new breeks, wi’ a gowden ring,
Oor Jockie gaed to the Kirk!