We knew a miser, calm and cold, Unutterably pious, Whose grave professions, smugly bold, Provokingly would try us. He claimed that all he did or said Jehovah instigated; By heavenly promptings he was led, And so he often stated. He sold us milk, and raised the price A cent a quart, explaining The Lord had bade him make the rise, It was of God's ordaining. "But what," we asked him, "would you do If God should tell you clearly Milk must no more be sold by you, But given to us merely?" "Why, then" -- the miser did not shrink His inmost thought to utter, But said, before he stopped to think, "I'd make it into butter." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CONTRETEMPS by THOMAS HARDY WORKING GIRLS by CARL SANDBURG LINES TO A BEAUTIFUL AND BUS-RIDING LADY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS FAREWELL by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE QUATORZAINS: 6. A FANTASTIC SIMILE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |