Good Luck

Good Luck, she is never a lady,
  But the cursedest quean alive.
 Tricksy, wincing, and jady—
  Kittle to lead or drive.
 Greet her—she hailing a stranger!
   Meet her—she’s busking to leave!
 Let her alone for a shrew to the bone
  And the hussy comes plucking your sleeve!
     Largesse! Largesse, O Fortune!
     Give or hold at your will
     If I’ve no care for Fortune,
     Fortune must follow me still!

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