Able to guide me with wisdom of counsel,
Willing to greet me and comfort my grief.
He who hath tried it, and he alone, knoweth
How harsh a comrade is comfortless Care
Unto the man who hath no dear protector,
Gold wrought with fingers nor treasure so fair.
Chill is his heart as he roameth in exile--
Thinketh of banquets his boyhood saw spread;
Friends and companions partook of his pleasures--
Knoweth he well that all friendless and lordless