Because its origin’s in reason fixed, soon pleased;
While raging anger stirs up thoughts of bitter strife.
For how can man be tranquil, when the stake’s his life?
Our outward eye discerns not pure from tainted hearts;
Futurity’s small lattice oped, the curtain parts.340
The eye of true sagacity distinct can see;
This other eye, ’tis, fails;—is ne’er from error free.
How many seeming pleasures, fair, as sugar sweet,
Have poison lurking in them, death to all they meet!
Men of discernment know them surely by mere smell;