Alexander Pope

The hog that ploughs not, not obeys thy call,
Lives on the labours of this lord of all.

The hog that ploughs not, not obeys thy call,
Lives on the labours of this lord of all.

Where London's column, pointing at the skies,
Like a tall bully, lifts the head and lies.

Where London's column, pointing at the skies,
Like a tall bully, lifts the head and lies.

And all who told it added something new, and all who heard it, made enlargements too.

And all who told it added something new, and all who heard it, made enlargements too.

Divert her eyes with pictures in the fire.

Divert her eyes with pictures in the fire.

All seems infected that the infected spy,
As all looks yellow to the jaundiced eye.

All seems infected that the infected spy,
As all looks yellow to the jaundiced eye.