Know, that for old age thou hast heaped up sorrow;
For thou sinkest to that level, and thy kin shall scorn thee,
Yea, and the menial thou hast pampered haply shall neglect thee in thy death:
And if thou reachest up to high estates, thinking to herd with princes,
What art thou but a footstool, though so near a throne?
O rush among the lilies, be taught thou art a weed,
O briar among the cedars, hot contempt shall burn thee.
But thou, friend and scholar, select from thine own caste,
And make not an intimate of one, thy servant or thy master;
For only friendship among men is the true republic,