A man sits at a desk, writing with a quill pen. His eyes are closed and his nose has fallen into his inkpot, suggesting his work is exhausting., Text: You poor pen driver, with your inky fingers, / Constant drudgery still o'er you lingers, / The plan of your future I plainly can see, / A slave to your books and bottle you'll be., Provenance: Helfand, William H..
