“Before all else I bring thee hither
Where boon companions meet together,
To let thee see how smooth life runs away.
Here, for the folk, each day’s a holiday:
With little wit, and ease to suit them,
They whirl in narrow, circling trails,
Like kittens playing with their tails:
And if no headache persecute them,
So long the host may credit give,
They merrily and careless live.”