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...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: WILLIAM JONES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS AFTER PARTING by SARA TEASDALE THE OLD MEN by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS LIGHT [AND LOVE] by FRANCIS WILLIAM BOURDILLON AT THE CLOSED GATE OF JUSTICE by JAMES DAVID CORROTHERS THE BALLAD OF PROSE AND RHYME by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON THE PHANTOM HORSEWOMAN by THOMAS HARDY PSALM OF THOSE WHO GO FORTH BEFORE DAYLIGHT by CARL SANDBURG |