To Make Three Guineas Do The Work

O, Life! How Pleasant Is Thy Morning, Young Fancy's Rays The Hills Adorning! Cold Pausing Caution's Lesson Scorning, We Frisk Away, Like Schoolboys, At The Expected Warning, To Joy And Play.

But Little Mouse, You Are Not Alone, In Proving Foresight May Be Vain: The Best Laid Schemes Of Mice And Men Go Often Askew, And Leave Us Nothing But Grief And Pain, For Promised Joy! Still You Are Blest, Compared With Me!

If Naebody Care For Me,i'll Care For Naebody.

The Lightly-jumping, Glowrin' Trouts, That Thro' My Waters Play.

I Waive The Quantum O' The Sin, The Hazard Of Concealing; But, Och! It Hardens A' Within, And Petrifies The Feeling!