Fortitude

—In struggling with misfortunes Lies the true proof of virtue. On smooth seas How many bauble boats dare set their sails, And make an equal way with firmer vessels: But let the tempest once enrage the sea, And then behold the strong-ribb'd argosie Bounding between the ocean and the air, Like Perseus mounted on his Pegasus; Then where are those weak rivals of the main? Or to avoid the tempest, fled to port, Or made a prey to Neptune. Ev'n thus Do empty shew and true-priz'd worth divide In storms of fortune.

Let fortune empty her whole quiver on me. I have a soul, that, like an ample shield, Can take in all, and verge enough for more: Fate was not mine, nor am I Fate's, Souls know no conquerors.

With such unshaken temper of the soul To bear the swelling tide of prosp'rous fortune, Is to deserve that fortune. In adversity The mind grows rough by buffeting the tempest; But in success dissolving, sinks to ease, And loses all her firmness.

Tho' plung'd in ills, and exercis'd in care, Yet never let the noble mind despair: When press'd by dangers, and beset with foes, The heav'ns their timely succour interpose; And when our virtue sinks, o'erwhelm'd with grief, By unforeseen expedients bring relief.