O, don’t be saucy, don’t be stiff, because you may have cattle.
I have seen—and, here’s my hand to you, I only say what’s true—
A many a one with twice your stock not half so proud as you.
Good luck to you, don’t scorn the poor, and don’t be their despiser,
For worldly wealth soon melts away, and cheats the very miser,
And Death soon strips the proudest wreath from haughty human brows;
Then don’t be stiff, and don’t be proud, good Woman of Three Cows!
See where Momonia’s heroes lie, proud Owen More’s descendants,
’Tis they that won the glorious name, and had the grand attendants!
If they were forced to bow to Fate, as every mortal bows,