A Hundred Fables of La Fontaine. Jean de la Fontaine

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       With bullocks garlanded and slain:

       No idol ever had, as that,

       A kitchen quite so full and fat.

       But all this worship at his shrine

       Brought not from this same block divine

       Inheritance, or hidden mine,

       Or luck at play, or any favour.

       Nay, more, if any storm whatever

       Brew'd trouble here or there,

       The man was sure to have his share,

       And suffer in his purse,

       Although the god fared none the worse.

       At last, by sheer impatience bold,

       The man a crowbar seizes,

       His idol breaks in pieces,

       And finds it richly stuff'd with gold.

       "How's this? Have I devoutly treated,"

       Says he, "your godship, to be cheated?

       Now leave my house, and go your way,

       And search for altars where you may."