University of Virginia Library

Years passed. Once more
Saint Swithin knocked upon the door.
The good man came. He'd grown fat
And lusty, like a well-fed cat.
Thereat the Saint was pleased. Quoth he,
“Give me a crust, for charity.”
“A crust, thou say'st? Hut, tut! How now?
Wouldst come a-begging here? I trow,
Thou lazy rascal, thou couldst find
Enough of work hadst thou a mind!
'Tis thine own fault if thou art poor.
Begone, sir!” Bang!—he shut the door.