A little sleep, a little slumber,
A little folding of the hands to rest;
So shall your poverty come like a prowler,
And your need like an armed man.
The sluggards ask for a little slumber; a little folding of the hands to sleep.
The day dies out, the time for labor is over, and the field is overgrown with thorns.
It is by a little procrastination that men ruin their souls.
May the Lord teach us this sacred wisdom.
Poverty overtakes the slothful. Ruin overthrows the undecided. He who is doing his master's business must not tarry.
Let us seek diligently the Lord Jesus Christ. The day will come when it will be too late to plough and to sow, too late to repent and believe.