And drinking yill,
Till his last moans
He took his fill.”
In the kirkyard of Horncliffe, on the Tweed, may be seen:—
“Here lies the Horner of Horncliffe,
Puir Tam Gordon, cauld and stiff,
Wha in this narrow hole was puttin
For his lawless love of wedder mutton.”
There is a neatly expressed compliment to the memory of a dead wife in these lines, said to be copied from a gravestone in Meigle:—
“She was—but words are wanting,