Rejoiced to find his father dead,
Till then on thrifty viands fed;
Unnumber'd dishes crown'd his board,
With each unwholesome trifle stored.
He ate—and long'd to eat again,
But sigh'd for appetite in vain:
His food, though dress'd a thousand ways,
Had lost its late accustom'd praise;
He relish'd nothing—sickly grew—
Yet long'd to taste of something new.