The plans of men of shrewdest wit
To fail are known,
Whilst beardless lads the mark will hit
By chance alone.
7
Well was it said, long years ago,
Never trust him whom you’ve given a blow;
Trust not the heart you have caused to ache,
For thine, if it can, it will surely break.
Fling not a stone at the wall of a town,
Lest one from the rampart should strike you down.
8
Who roams the world by many wants beset,
Is quickly glad his own name to forget;
Unless you’ve gold you cannot do much harm,
And if you’ve gold you need no other arm.
Gold if you lack you cannot cross the brine;
Better than ten men’s strength is one man’s coin.
ON A YOUNG MAN WITH RED HAIR
He is a lad of sober mind,
By no means martially inclined;
Nor fit to bear war’s dreadful shocks,
Although he carries fire-locks.
* * * * *
London:
Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
Edition limited to Thirty Copies.