The Soul Is Strong That Trusts In

Though The Desire Of Fame Be The Last Weakness Wise Men Put Off.

Like A Rough Orator, That Brings More Truth Than Rhetoric, To Make Good His Accusation.

Without Good Company All Dainties Lose Their True Relish, And Like Painted Grapes, Are Only Seen, Not Tasted.

Greatness, With Private Men Esteem'd A Blessing, Is To Me A Curse; And We, Whom, For Our High Births, They Conclude The Happy Freemen, Are The Only Slaves. Happy The Golden Mean!

Be Wise; Soar Not Too High To Fall; But Stoop To Rise.