So may I praise what fortune has bestowed,

And all the blessings that befell me here;

Yet mourn I still the prizes once I sought,

That slipped my grasp—oh bounty once held dear!

It is but nature still to crave for more

Well knowing that indulgence is a sword—

And double-edged, it may the soul still score,

There in success, the spirit, sadly gored.

What gain is found by gorging to excess,

Or loving more than one pure heart should dare,

Or wielding wealth to flaunt in proud largesse,

Or chasing fame beyond what truth would bear?

The greater good lies in the humbler treasure,

As heaven’s sun burns bright in tempered measure.