IX

The Gourmand and Late Riser^[69-2].

My piteous plight oft makes me weep—

I cannot eat when I am asleep.

X

An Epitaph. By Ben-Jacob^[69-3].

Here lies _Nachshon_, man of great renown,

Who won much glory in his native town:

'Twas hunger that killed him, and they let him die—

They give him statues now, and gaze, and sigh—

While _Nachshon_ lived, he badly wanted _bread_,

Now he is gone, he gets a _stone_ instead.