You gobble all and each Your fancy bids you cram, And then abuse the leech And call his craft a sham. The fruits of what you sow You'll gather pretty quick; The harvest is not slow-- Expect then to be sick. Your belly is a pot Collecting day by day Its noisome food, with what Dire illness to repay! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRAYER TO THE OCEAN by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE BLACK RIDERS: 1 by STEPHEN CRANE THE PRETTY GIRL OF LOCH DAN by SAMUEL FERGUSON A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 63 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 8. BRENNBAUM by EZRA POUND |