Classic Poem

" NOW in our sermon we to Fortune come,
Of whom I'll tell a marvel you've ne'er heard.
You'll doubt me, but the statement's true, and found
Written in treatises: more profitable
To man bad fortune is than easy lot.
This paradox can easily be proved:
Fair fortune and a life of ease delude
With sweetest milk, like mothers, suckling men,
Seemingly only born to foster them
And give them jewels, honors, dignities,
High place and wealth, promised stability
Amidst all change — and feeding them with pride
In all the prosperousness of worldly rank.
When they mount high upon her fickle wheel,
They think their masterships have risen so much
That from their station proud they ne'er can fall.
She makes them think their friends infallible
And numberless, as they all come and go
About them, making them appear like lords,
Saying that they'd do anything for them,
E'en strip their own shirts off their backs, and shed
Blood from their veins them to defend and keep —
Be prompt to serve and follow all their lives.
Those hark'ning to such words are glorified,
And they believe them all like Gospel truth;
Yet soon they know 'twas guileful flattery,
When past recovery they've lost their wealth.
Then they see how their friends all act. If one
Out of a hundred sycophants remains,
Though all were relatives, they may thank God.
When Fortune makes her home with men, she starves
Their sense, but nourishes their ignorance.
" Ill Fortune, on the other hand, when she
Upsets men's high estate and tumbles them
Low in the mire from off her turning wheel
And like a stepdame lays upon their hearts
A painful poultice, spent and thin, not strong
With vinegar, this teaches them the truth
That none should boast they're Fortune's favorites;
For no security they have. They learn
To know, when they have lost their wealth, what love
Those had for them who erstwhile were their friends;
For they whom then prosperity amazed
Are now astounded at adversity.
Seeing their patrons stripped, not one remains —
Not half of one! — but all depart and say
They never knew the poor unfortunate.
Nor do they stop at that, but everywhere
They scorn him, blame him, call him wretched fool.
Not even those who profited the most
Will say their folly lost his goods for him.
None will be found to help unless there are
True friends who have such noble hearts that they
Ne'er loved him for his wealth, and had no hope
Of profit. These defend and aid the man;
For Fortune has no influence on their hearts.
Eternal in his love is a true friend.
Friends' affection can't be cut in two —
Not even by drawn sword — excepting thus:
Man loses friends by anger, pride, reproach,
Or by revealing secrets he should keep,
Or by detraction — a foul, dolorous plague.
In cases of this kind will Friendship flee;
Naught else will injure her. But 'twould be strange
Were one true friend among a thousand found.
Since no amount of wealth can reach the price
Of one such friend — no value gain such height
That Friendship will not higher be — I say:
" 'Tis better to meet friends upon the road
Than to have cash in purse." Misfortune shows,
When upon men it falls with sad mischance,
Most clearly who deserves the name of friend;
And such experience proves he's worth more
Than any wealthy man has in this world.
Thus is adversity of much more worth
Than is prosperity; for this provides
But ignorance, while knowledge comes from that.
Poverty such demonstration gives
As will distinguish true friends from the false.
One recognizes then, and understands,
What kind of friends they were when he was rich
Who offered him their bodies, souls, and goods.
Is any price too high for such advice?
Less had he been deceived if he had known!
From Poverty he's great advantage gained;
For it has made a wise man from a fool,
Which wealth had never done till lost by some mischance. "