On Himself

ON RAINY days alone I dine 
Upon a chick and pint of wine. 
On rainy days I dine alone 
And pick my chicken to the bone; 
But this my servants much enrages, 
No scraps remain to save board-wages. 
In weather fine I nothing spend, 
But often spunge upon a friend; 
Yet, where he’s not so rich as I, 
I pay my club, and so good-bye.