Man wi' his pocket so conceited,
He sympathises and's affected;
If emptiness is but suspected,
'Tis plainly seen,
He looks like one who's much neglected,
When's pocket's toom;

His spirits often rise and fall;
They're subject just to pocket's call:
His neighbours know, as well's himsel,
His current cash:
'Tis known by 's being flat or dull,
Or spirits flush.

When that his pockets are quite drain'd,
He's flat, he's dull, and much asham'd;
His vital pow'rs appear all maim'd,
Baith word an' action:
He looks like one that's self condemn'd,
Void o' protection.

The very muscles o' his face
Are lines that one may read apace;
So that one's at no loss to guess
His present state,
Whether his pocket's full o' cash,
Or empty yet.


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