We are wandering benighted, with a waning moon; plunge not rashly into jungles,
Where cold and poisonous damps will quench the torch of hope:
The tide is strong against us; good oarsmen, pull or perish,—
If your arms be slack for fear, ye shall not stem the torrent.
A wise traveller goeth on cheerily, through fair weather or foul;
He knoweth that his journey must be sped, so he carrieth his sunshine with him.
Calamities come not as a curse,—nor prosperity for other than a trial;
Struggle,—thou art better for the strife, and the very energy shall hearten thee.
Good is taught in a Spartan school,—hard lessons and a rough discipline;
But evil cometh idly of itself, in the luxury of Capuan holidays: