This Tharsus, o'er which I have the government, A city on whom Plenty held full hand, For Riches strewed herself even in her streets; Whose towers bore heads so high they kissed the clouds, And strangers ne'er beheld but wond'red at; Whose men and dames so jetted and adorned, Like one another's glass to trim them by; Their tables were stored full, to glad the sight, And not so much to feed on as delight; All poverty was scorned, and pride so great The name of help grew odious to repeat.

William Shakespeare