Classic Poem

1

All Adam's race are members of one frame;
Since all, at first, from the same essence came.
When by hard fortune one limb is oppressed,
The other members lose their wonted rest:
If thou feel'st not for others' misery,
A son of Adam is no name for thee.

2

Money abides not in the palm
Of those who careless live,
Nor patience in the lover's heart,
Nor water in the sieve!

3

The well-fed warrior will with ardour fight;
The starved will be as ardent in his flight.

4

To door of king, or minister, or peer,
Draw thou not nigh unless with patrons girt;
For if a poor man at the gate appear,
Warders his collars seize, and dogs his shirt!

5

They who in youth to manners ne'er attend,
Will in advancing years small gain acquire:
Wood, while 'tis green, thou mayst at pleasure bend;
When dry, thou canst not change it save by fire.

6

A veteran choose for deeds of high emprise
He the fierce lion in his noose will tame;
The youth may mighty be, of giant size,
But in the fight fear will unnerve his frame:
War to the well-trained warrior is the same
As some nice quillet of the law is to the wise.

7

Reply not roughly to smooth language, nor
Contend with him who knocks at peace's door.

8

When thou hast failed in every known resource,
Then to the sword 'tis right to have recourse.

9

Go, tell the hornet — fierce, ungentle thing,
We want no honey: but at least don't sting!

10

On earth there is no gratitude, I trow;
Or none, perhaps, to use it now pretend.
None learn of me the science of the bow,
Who make me not their target in the end.