Classic Poem

Young Amyntas considered his pigs extra fine,
And was rather too anxious to pamper the swine,
Till one day while shaking down acorns beneath
He fell from the branches and so met his death.
His father condemned the fell tree to the fire
And burned all its wood on the funeral pyre.
Let my neighbours insist that their pigs fattened be,
If my man counts the herd, that's sufficient for me.