You would be wise, I'll teach you if you please,
Withdraw you mind from such wild thoughts as these

If I my wonted diligence forget,
My gainful drudgery; how shall I eat?
I certainly shall starve for want of meat.
If I indulge, and not chastise my boy,
My lenity his morals may destroy;
He still will steer the course he hath begun,
And to the very height of lewdness run.

I tell thee, mortal, that 'tis better far,
To dye with thirst and hunger, free from care,
With a serene and an undaunted mind,
Than live in wealth to its dire cares confin'd.
As for the boy, 'tis better far that he
Become a proverb for debauchery;
'Tis better he were hang'd, than thou should'st share
A moment's grief by thy reforming care:

But this is more than difficult, you say,
Too hard a rule for flesh and blood to t'obey:

Yet by a former rule 'tis easy made:
Begin by smallest things, as I have said;
Suppose thy wine be stolen, thy oil be shed;
And thus take comfort: 'Where's the loss, if I

At such a rate tranquillity can buy?
If constancy at such a rate be bought?
And there's not anything that's got for nought.

Suppose you call your servant, he's at play;
Or when he's present, mind not what you say;
And is the quiet of thy soul perplex'd
At this? He gets the better if thou'rt vex'd'
He grows your master, while he can torment;
Give not such pow'r to the vile negligent.