Aristotle. (Book xv. § 51, p. 1113.)
O sought with toil and mortal strife
By those of human birth,
Virtue, thou noblest end of life,
Thou goodliest gain on earth!
Thee, Maid, to win, our youth would bear,
Unwearied, fiery pains; and dare
Death for thy beauty's worth;
So bright thy proffer'd honours shine,
Like clusters of a fruit divine,