To the ashes of the dead glory comes too late.
The flaw which is hidden is deemed greater than it is.
Givers of great dinners know few enemies.
Glory comes too late when we are nought but ashes.
Be content to be what you are, and prefer nothing to it, and do not fear or wish for your last day.
The bee is enclosed, and shines preserved in amber, so that it seems enshrined in its own nectar.