And wretched when thy sheaves o’erload the wain,
And the crash’d axle spoils the scatter’d grain.
The golden mean of conduct should confine
Our every aim; be moderation thine.
Take to thy house a woman for thy bride
When in the ripeness of thy manhood’s pride:
Thrice ten thy sum of years; the nuptial prime;
Nor fall far short, nor far exceed the time.
Four years the ripening virgin should consume,
[127]And wed the fifth of her expanded bloom.