To my Rich Friend become Poor

Tell me, Old Friend, and speak the truth,
If twenty Dishes in thy Youth,
Did then more please, and gratifie
Thy Stomach with that Gluttony,
Which did Diseases daily breed;
Till now thou dost on one Dish feed.
Tell me if now thy constant health
Gives not more joys than thy lost Wealth
Afforded; by thy vast excess,
In frequent Treats and Wantonness;
Which made a noise, more than content,
For all thy charge and time mispent.
When to the Poor, half that expence,
Would have procur'd God's Providence;
And fav'd the loss of thy Estate,
Which thou hast thought upon too late;
Tho' now thou dost aloud prosess,
Thy Poverty proves Blessedness.