Each day of sorrow, torment’s pawn.15
My days are waste; take thou no heed,
Thou still are left; my joy, indeed.
Whole seas a fish will never drown;
A poor man’s day seems all one frown.
What boot from counsel to a fool?
Waste not thy words; thy wrath let cool.
Cast off lust’s bonds; stand free from all.
Slave not for pelf; be not greed’s thrall.
Pour rivers into one small gill,