I worked like a horse and I ate like a hog and I slept like a dead man.
Both triumph and disaster are impostors.
Teach us delight in simple things, and mirth that has no bitter springs.
I wasted my substance, I know I did, on riotous living, so I did, but there's nothing on record to show I did more than my betters have done.
What is the moral? Who rides may read.
Keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you.