Classic Poem

" THE root of vice is lust, as Cicero
Has written in his book upon Old Age,
Which he exalts and values more than Youth;
For Youth impels all men and maids to deeds
That jeopardize their bodies and their souls.
From shameful ills that curse posterity
They scarcely can escape with life and limb.
" A man's to dissipation led by Youth,
And introduced to bad companionship
And lawless life and purposeless pursuits.
At last, fearful to keep that liberty
That Nature lent him, he to convent goes.
By caging himself there he thinks to catch
The bird of happiness in heaven, unless
He breaks his vows. But oftentimes the load
He finds too grievous, and deserts his cell;
Or, if he ends his life therein, by shame
Held to his vows, he stays against his will,
Living uneasily, lamenting oft
The freedom he has lost and can't regain,
Unless God's grace shall his misease efface,
Bestowing patience and obedience.
Youth leads a man to folly and debauch,
To ribaldry, outrage, and lechery,
To instability and quarreling
From which he scarce can extricate himself.
It is Delight, through Youth, her chamberlain,
Who leads in parlous paths the haltered mind
And body of one who sets his heart on joy;
For Youth is practiced in all evil schemes
And seeks to find no other work to do
But to entice and lead folk to Delight.
" But Age retrieves from folly. If you doubt,
Recall your youth or ask the older folk
Who've been Youth's victims and remember still
The perils they have passed, the follies done,
The foul desires they have been tempted with,
That have their strength diminished; and how Age,
Who now befriends them like companion good,
Recalls to right and leads them till the end.
But badly are Age's services received;
For no one loves or prizes Age enough,
That I know of, to want her for himself.
None to be old and near life's end desires.
The elders marvel and are quite amazed
When they awake their memories and think,
As think they must, of follies overpast,
Of the affairs in which they have escaped
Disgrace and scandal. If they've suffered shame,
They wonder how they managed to avoid
A greater loss in body, goods, or soul.
" Know you where Youth, whom many praise, resides?
While of propitious years, she serves Delight,
Who in return maintains Youth in her home.
Youth ministers to her so willingly
She dogs her every step, abandoning
Her body freely to Delight, nor would,
Without her, trouble to prolong her life.
" Do you know where Age lives? I'll tell you soon;
For there you'll go unless Death intervene
To lay you low in youth within his cave,
Which dark and somber is. Age has her home
Where Labor dwells with Grief, and both combine
To chain and fetter Age and torture her
And beat her till they bring her near to Death.
Such torments she endures till she repents.
Then tardily there comes the thought that Youth
Has evilly beguiled her, scattering
Her preterit for nothing, bringing her
Unto the present bald and most infirm,
And promising a future sans relief
From consequences of her wasted life,
Unless she shall do penance for the sins
That she committed in her youth, and gain
The sovereign good from which Youth parted her
When she made brief her days with vanities,
And never thought how short is time, that flies
Before a man can count or measure it.
" However goes the game, both he and she —
And be she maid or wife — who would enjoy
Love's full delight should fruitful issue seek
And play their parts through to the very end.
I know some women fear to bear a child,
Counting it great mischance if they conceive;
But they, unless they're fools or ignorant
Or quite unruled by Shame, make no complaint.
Who set themselves unto the work of Love
Do so but for Delight, unless they be.
Unworthy whores who sell themselves for coin
And whose vile life unfits them for all joy.
She who would yield herself for any price
Cannot be good. One should have naught to do
With any woman who her body sells.
Would one think woman held her body dear
Who willingly would flay herself alive?
Most wretchedly deceived is one who thinks
That such a woman loves him, just because
She smiles and feasts him, calling him her dear.
A beast like him deserves not such a name
Nor to be loved at all. No man should prize
A woman who but hopes to plunder him.
I say not that a woman may not wear
With pleasure and delight the jewelry
Her sweetheart freely gives or sends to her,
But that she should demand it not, for fear
That he will take it ill of her. And she
May freely give him presents in return
The interchange alike of love and gifts
Unites their hearts more closely. I would have
Them do whatever well-bred lovers should
When they keep company. But let them guard
Against Love's follies, which enflame and burn
The heart, and let their love unselfish be;
For selfishness incites false hearts to greed.
True love should have its birth from noble heart,
Not of the carnal will that masters men.
Carnal delight itself impersonates
That love which has so caught you in its net
That you can have no other wish or dream
Of good but your desire to gain the Rose.
But not two fingers' space is your advance
Toward the wished end; this mortifies your flesh
And robs you of your strength. A sorry guest
You entertained when first you harbored Love;
A sorry guest remains now in your house.
Therefore, 'tis my advice you turn him out
Before he robs you of all noble thoughts
That you should have. Let him no more remain!
Those who are drunk with love great mischief feel.
This will you know at last when you have spent
Your time, and wasted youth, in this sad sport.
If you shall live until you free yourself
Of love, you will lament the time you've lost,
But never can recover it again.
Yet to escape most fortunate you'd be;
For in the trap in which you now are caught
Many lose time and goods, body and mind and soul. "