"The Sluggard

’Tis the voice of the Sluggard: I heard him complain,“You have wak’d me too soon, I must slumber again;”As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed,Turns his sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy head.

“A little more sleep, 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 saunt’ring, 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 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 taught me betimes to love working and reading."

This poem, from a daily site, made me giggle as I got up early today to go on the OWLS trip to Chincoteague!!!