Thou sterve thy self at last:
What men wilt thou reserve in store,
Whom in the time to come thou mayst devour,
When thou shalt have destroyed all before.
But if thou wilt not yet give o’re,
If yet thy greedie Stomach calls for more,
If more remain whom thou must kill,
And if thy jawes are craving still,
Carry thy fury to the Scythian coasts,
The Northern wildness, and eternal frosts!