Of sable iron; from the fresh forbear
The dry excrescence at the board to pare.
Ne’er let thy hand the wine-filled flaggon rest
[136]Upon the goblet’s edge; th’ unwary guest
May from thy fault his own disaster drink,
For evil omens lurk around the brink.
Ne’er in the midst th’ unfinished house forego,
Lest there perch’d lonely croak the garrulous crow.
Ne’er from [137]unhallow’d vessels hasty feed,
Nor lave therein; for thou mayst rue the deed.