The gods confound the man who first found out
How to distinguish hours! Confound him, too,
Who in this place set up a sundial,
To cur and hack my days so wretchedly
Into small portions.
When I was a boy,
My belly was my sundial; one more sure,
Truer, and more exact than any of them.
This told me when 'twas proper time
To go to dinner, when I aught to eat,
and sleep.
But now-a- days, why even when I have,
I can't fall-to, unless the sun gives leave.
The greater part of its inhabitants,
Shrunk up with hunger, creep along the streets!
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