Isaac Watts

“ 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. ”

“ 'Tis the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain,
"You have waked me too soon, I must slumber again." ”