As Long As There Are Men The

A Prosperous Fool Is A Grievous Burden.

The Seed Of Mortals Broods O'er Passing Things, And Hath Nought Surer Than The Smoke-cloud's Shadow.

The Wisest Of The Wise May Err.

Justice, Voiceless, Unseen, Seeth Thee When Thou Sleepest And When Thou Goest Forth And When Thou Liest Down. Continually Doth She Attend Thee, Now Aslant Thy Course, Now At A Later Time. These Lines Are From A Section Of Doubtful Or Spurious Fragments.

Few Men Have The Natural Strength To Honor A Friend's Success Without Envy.