By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent, and what to those we give, to Jove is lent.
Heaven hears and pities hapless men like me, For sacred ev'n to gods is misery.
The persuasion of a friend is a strong thing.
Why, you could wake up dead tomorrow
Whoever obeys the gods, to him they particularly listen.
But curb thou the high spirit in thy breast, for gentle ways are best, and keep aloof from sharp contentions.