Successful Failure

 I wonder if successful men
 Are always happy?
And do they sing with gusto when
 Springtime is sappy?
Although I am of snow-white hair
 And nighly mortal,
Each time I sniff the April air
 I chortle.

I wonder if a millionaire
 Jigs with enjoyment,
Having such heaps of time to spare
 For daft employment.
For as I dance the Highland Fling
 My glee is muckle,
And doping out new songs to sing
 I chuckle.

I wonder why so soon forgot
 Are fame and riches;
Let cottage comfort be my lot
 With well-worn britches.
As in a pub a poor unknown,
 Brown ale quaffing,
To think of all I'll never own,--
 I'm laughing.

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