Epigrams

There's no living, my boy, without plenty of gold, But gold to obtain you must ever be bold. The Diver will never who feareth the shark Bring up precious pearls from the sea caverns dark.

O think not you'll change what on high is designed, Though you lift up your hands and to heaven you shout; The Angel will grieve not, who governs the wind, Though a gust should the lamp of the widow blow out.

Load not thyself with gold, O mortal man, for know No strength thou'lt have for loads when summon'd hence away. Avoid excess of meat, it maketh gross, I trow, And gross thou must not be when summon'd hence away; For through the narrow gate thou'lt find it hard to go Of death, if thou art gross when summon'd hence away.