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Robert Service

When I was young and Scottish I
     Allergic was to spending;
I put a heap of bawbees by,
     But now my life is ending,
Although I would my hoarded pelf
     Impetuously scatter,
Each day I live I find myself
     Financially fatter.

Though all the market I might buy,
     There's nothing to my needing;
I only have one bed to lie,
     One mouth for feeding.
So what's the good of all that dough
     Accumulating daily?
I should have spent it long ago
     In living gaily.

So take my tip, my prudent friend,
     Without misgiving;
Don't guard your fortune to the end,
     But blow it living.
Better on bubbly be it spent,
     And chorus cuties,
Than pay it to the Government
     For damned Death Duties.

Added: 29 Jun 2002 | Last Read: 18 Mar 2018 5:16 PM | Viewed: 3452 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/5385/ | Viewed on 18 March 2018.
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