A competence is all we can enjoy.
Oh, be content, where Heaven can give no more! 510
More, like a flash of water from a lock,
Quickens our spirits’ movement for an hour;
But soon its force is spent, nor rise our joys
Above our native temper’s common stream.
Hence disappointment lurks in every prize,
As bees in flowers; and stings us with success.
The rich man, who denies it, proudly feigns;
Nor knows the wise are privy to the lie.