Page:Parerga.djvu/44
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
( 34 )
THE WISE MAN'S PRAYER.
(FROM THE CONCLUSION OF JUVENAL'S SATIRE ON THE VANITY OF HUMAN WISHES.)
"Nil ergo optabunt homines?" &c.
Shall men ask nothing, then?—If thou art wise,
Thou'lt let God give what seems good in his eyes;
For, love ourselves intensely as we can,
Still greater is the love of God for man—
He'll give what's best, and not what's most desired.
We, by blind impulses and passions fired,
Ask wives and children; but 'tis known above
How bad our children and our wives might prove.
And yet, that thou mayst sometimes breathe a prayer,
And sometimes to the temple offerings bear,
Ask for a soul to every fate resign'd;
May the sound limbs contain as sound a mind;
May the free spirit mock the fear of death,
Nay, bless the hour that marks life's parting breath;
No anger feel; inflame with no desire;
And rate the fame of Hercules far higher
Though bought with famine, pain, fatigue, and blows,
Than soft Sardanapalus's repose.
I shew what thou can'st give thyself. At least,
Through Virtue lies the only path to rest.
Fortune, thou'rt nought, if man is wise;—'tis we
Place thee in heaven, and make a God of thee.
Thou'lt let God give what seems good in his eyes;
For, love ourselves intensely as we can,
Still greater is the love of God for man—
He'll give what's best, and not what's most desired.
We, by blind impulses and passions fired,
Ask wives and children; but 'tis known above
How bad our children and our wives might prove.
And yet, that thou mayst sometimes breathe a prayer,
And sometimes to the temple offerings bear,
Ask for a soul to every fate resign'd;
May the sound limbs contain as sound a mind;
May the free spirit mock the fear of death,
Nay, bless the hour that marks life's parting breath;
No anger feel; inflame with no desire;
And rate the fame of Hercules far higher
Though bought with famine, pain, fatigue, and blows,
Than soft Sardanapalus's repose.
I shew what thou can'st give thyself. At least,
Through Virtue lies the only path to rest.
Fortune, thou'rt nought, if man is wise;—'tis we
Place thee in heaven, and make a God of thee.