Though present times, and past, with evils be snared, They shall not last: with cithern silent Muse, Apollo wakes, and bow hath sometime spared.

The winhttpｓ://rｅａd•９９cｓｗ•cｏｍd most oft the hugest pine tree grieves: The stately towers come down with greater fall: The highest hills the bolt of thunder cleavhttps://read.99csw.comes.

In hard estate, with stout shows, valour use, The same man still, in whom wisdom prevails; In too full wind draw in thy swelling sails.

Yo九九藏書u better sure shall live, not evermore Trying high seas; nor, while seas rage you flee, Pressing too much upon ill-harboured shore.

The golden mean who loves, 九_九_藏_書lives safely free From filth of foreworn house, and quiet lives, Released from court, where envy needs must be.

From Horace, Book II. Ode X., beginning "Rectiuhttps://read.99csw.coms vives, Licini," &c.

Evil haps do fill with hope, good haps appall With fear of change, the courage well prepared: Foul winters, as they come, away they shall.