And the fragrance of that incense would harm thee, as when, on a summer evening,
The honied yellow flowers of the gorse oppress thy charmed sense:
And a man hath too much of praise, for he praiseth himself continually;
Neither lacketh he at any time self-commendation or excuse.
Praise a fool, and slay him: for the canvas of his vanity is spread;
His bark is shallow in the water, and a sudden gust shall sink it:
Praise a wise man, and speed him on his way; for he carrieth the ballast of humility,
And is glad when his course is cheered by the sympathy of brethren ashore.
The praise of a good man is good, for he holdeth up the mirror of Truth,