Old Socrates who thought he knew
A philosophic thing or two,
Believed that man was made to walk
Or lounge about the streets and talk
Of life and death and virtues true,
And what a fellow ought to do;
While poor Xantippe, so I'm told,
Remained at home to drudge and scold.
But Epicurus seemed to think
That man was made to eat and drink,
A doctrine quite as orthodox,
I sometimes think, as old man Soc's;
For what philosophy's complete
That can not take an hour to eat?
I like old Socry, to be sure,
But here I'm just an Epicure.