Classic Poem

The study intense
Of pounds and shillings and pence
I leave to the purse-squeezing scraper,
A draft I ne'er wrote,
Never yet gave my note,
For you know it is only waste paper

'Tis my maxim no debts
To settle but bets;
And gaming's a sacred transaction,
For who can refuse
When a gentleman sues
To offer him full satisfaction.

With shopkeepers' tongues
And tradesmen's loud lungs
My hall's a mere tower of Babel;
Yet still I persist,
Play at hazard or whist,
But look at no bill but a playbill.

Thus a character won
Of being undone,
Your life will glide glibly away;
For the deeper you get
And the more you're in debt,
The less you're expected to pay.