And sun and moon are beggars at his gate.
XVII.
While in thy lips thy words thou dost confine,
Thou art their lord—once uttered, they are thine.
XVIII.
Boldly thy bread upon the waters throw,
And if the fishes do not, God will know.
XIX.
What will not time and toil—? through these a worm
Will into silk a mulberry leaf transform.