ON RAINY days alone I dine <br />Upon a chick and pint of wine. <br />On rainy days I dine alone <br />And pick my chicken to the bone; <br />But this my servants much enrages, <br />No scraps remain to save board-wages. <br />In weather fine I nothing spend, <br />But often spunge upon a friend; <br />Yet, where he’s not so rich as I, <br />I pay my club, and so good-bye.<br /><br />Jonathan Swift<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-himself-2/
