No one is content with his own lot.
It is a sweet and seemly thing to die for one's country.
Not gods, nor men, nor even booksellers have put up with poets' being second-rate.
Those who seek for much are left in want of much. Happy is he to whom God has given, with sparing hand, as much as is enough.
Whatever you teach, be brief; what is quickly said, the mind readily receives and faithfully retains, everything superfluous runs over as from a full vessel.
That best of blessings, a contented mind.