sawin?' [sowing]
It seem'd to mak a kind o' stan',
But naething spak;
At length says I, 'Friend, wh'are ye gaun? [going]
Will ye go back?'

It spak right howe: 'My name is Death, [hollow]
But be na fley'd.'--Quoth I, 'Guid faith, [frightened]
Ye're maybe come to stap my breath;
But tent me, billie: [heed, fellow]
I red ye weel, tak care o' skaith, [advise, harm]
See, there's a gully!' [big knife]

'Gudeman,' quo' he, 'put up your whittle, [knife]
I'm no design'd to try its mettle;
But if I did--I wad be kittle [ticklish]
To be mislear'd-- [if mischievous]
I wad na mind it, no that spittle
Out-owre my beard.' [Over]

'Weel, weel!' says I, 'a bargain be't;
Come, gies your hand, an' sae we're gree't; [give us, agreed]
We'll ease our shanks an' tak a seat--
Come, gies your news;
This while ye hae been mony a gate, [road]
At mony a house.'

'Ay, ay!' quo' he, an' shook his head,
'It's e'en a lang, lang time indeed
Sin' I began to nick the thread,
An' choke the breath:
Folk maun do something for their bread, [must]
An' sae maun Death.

'Sax thousand years are near-hand fled, [well-nigh]
Sin' I was to the hutching bred; [butchering]
An' mony a scheme in vain's been laid
To stap or scaur me; [stop, scare]
Till ane Hornbook's ta'en up the trade,
An' faith! he'll waur me. [worst]

'Ye ken Jock Hornbook i' the clachan-- [village]
Deil mak his king's-hood in a spleuchan! [second stomach, tobacco pouch]
He's grown sae well acquaint wi' Buchan [(Author of _Domestic Medicine_)]
An' ither chaps,
The weans haud out their fingers laughin', [children