 | The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill |  |
PURSE-PROUD.
I scorn the selfish, purse-proud—,Who piques himself on being rich
With two-score pounds, late legacied,
Saved by his half-starved father's greed—
To former neighbours not one word!
He bows obsequious to my Lord.
In public see him—how he capers!
Looks big—stops short—pulls out his papers,
And from a silly, puppish dunce,
Commences the great man at once.
| The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill | |