Never exceed thy income. Youth may make
Even with the year; but age if it will hit,
Shoots a bow short, and lessens still its stake,
As the day lessens, and his life with it.
Thy children, kindred, friends, upon thee call;
Before thy journey fairly part with all.
Yet in thy thriving still misdoubt some evil;
Lest gaining gain on thee, and make thee dim
To all things else. Wealth is the conjurer’s devil;
Whom when he thinks he hath, the devil hath him.