Just at his prime.
“We mourn the loss o’ mensefu’ John,
Yet greet in vain since he is gone;
A blyther lad ne’er buir a drone,
Nor touched a lill;
Nor pipe inspir’d wi’ sweeter tone,
Or better skill.
“Not Orpheus auld, with lyric sound,
Wha in a ring gard stanes dance round,
Was ever half so much renown’d