Aye let humility thy garment be,
Which never suffer to be drawn from thee,
Although a Chosroes’ mantle in its stead
By Fortune’s hand to thee were offerèd.
IV.
A pebble thrown into the mighty sea
Sinks and disturbs not its tranquillity—
No ocean, but a shallow pool, the man,
Whom every little wrong disquiet can.