The Man and the Wooden God

A pagan kept a god of wood, -- / A sort that never hears, / Though furnish'd well with ears, -- / From which he hoped for wondrous good. / The idol cost the board of three; / So much enrich'd was he / With vows and offerings vain, / With bullocks garlanded and slain: / No idol ever had, as that, / A kitchen quite so full and fat. / But all this worship at his shrine / Brought not from this same block divine / Inheritance, or hidden mine, / Or luck at play, or any favour. / Nay, more, if any storm whatever / Brew'd trouble here or there, / The man was sure to have his share, / And suffer in his purse, / Although the god fared none the worse. / At last, by sheer impatience bold, / The man a crowbar seizes, / His idol breaks in pieces, / And finds it richly stuff'd with gold. / 'How's this? Have I devoutly treated,' / Says he, 'your godship, to be cheated? / Now leave my house, and go your way, / And search for altars where you may. / You're like those natures, dull and gross, / From, which comes nothing but by blows; / The more I gave, the less I got; / I'll now be rich, and you may rot. '[1]

[1]: Aesop.