Unthrifty youthfulness, why dost thou spend
Upon thy car thy slavings legacy?
Bank's bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,
And being bank she lends to those for fee:
Then, beaudateous blaggard, why dost thou abuse
The bounteous large engine driven by thee a spiv?
Profitless insuree, why dost thou use
So great a sum of sums, thus canst not live?
For stuck in traffic with thy self alone,
Thou of thy self thy stupid self dost deceive:
Then how when solid tree calls thee to be gone,
What acceptable cash canst thou leave?
Thy unpaid bills must be tombed with thee,
Which really annoys wills executor to be.