THE SLUGGARD.
Reading edition
'Tis the voice of the Sluggard: I heard him complain, 'You have waked me too soon! I must slumber again!' As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed Turn his sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy head. 'A little more sleep, and a little more slumber!' Thus he wastes half his days and his hours without number; And when he gets up he sits folding his hands, Or walks about sauntering, or trifling he stands. I pass'd by his garden, and saw the wild brier, The thorn, and the thistle grow broader and higher; The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags; And his money still wastes, till he starves or he begs. I made him a visit, still hoping to find He had took better care for improving his mind: He told me his dreams, talk'd of eating and drinking; But he scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking. Said I then to my heart, 'Here's a lesson for me! That man's but a picture of what I might be; But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding, Who have taught me by times to love working and reading!'
