Go unto the ant, O slothful one, See her ways and be wise;

She doth prepare in summer her bread, She hath gathered in harvest her food.

A little sleep, a little slumber, A little clasping of the hands to rest,

The hand of the diligent ruleth, And slothfulness becometh tributary.

The slothful roasteth not his hunting, And the wealth of a diligent man is precious.

The soul of the slothful is desiring, and hath not. And the soul of the diligent is made fat.

The way of the slothful [is] as a hedge of briers, And the path of the upright is raised up.

The slothful hath hidden his hand in a dish, Even unto his mouth he bringeth it not back.

Because of winter the slothful plougheth not, He asketh in harvest, and there is nothing.

The slothful hath said, 'A lion [is] without, In the midst of the broad places I am slain.'

Near the field of a slothful man I passed by, And near the vineyard of a man lacking heart.

And I see -- I -- I do set my heart, I have seen -- I have received instruction,

And thy poverty hath come [as] a traveller, And thy want as an armed man!

The slothful hath said, 'A lion [is] in the way, A lion [is] in the broad places.'

Wiser [is] the slothful in his own eyes, Than seven [men] returning a reason.

'And his lord answering said to him, Evil servant, and slothful, thou hadst known that I reap where I did not sow, and I gather whence I did not scatter!