Part 3

Venture, comrades, I implore you, On the fare I set before you, You will like it more to-morrow, Better still the following day: If yet more you're then requiring, Old success I'll find inspiring, And fresh courage thence will borrow Novel dainties to display.

My Good Luck.

Weary of Seeking had I grown, So taught myself the way to Find: Back by the storm I once was blown, But follow now, where drives the wind.

Undismayed.

Where you're standing, dig, dig out: Down below's the Well: Let them that walk in darkness shout: "Down below—there's Hell!"

Dialogue.

A. Was I ill? and is it ended? Pray, by what physician tended? I recall no pain endured! B. Now I know your trouble's ended: He that can forget, is cured.

To the Virtuous.

Let our virtues be easy and nimble-footed in motion, Like unto Homer's verse ought they to come and to go.

Worldly Wisdom.

Stay not on level plain, Climb not the mount too high, But half-way up remain— The world you'll best descry!

Vademecum—Vadetecum.

Attracted by my style and talk You'd follow, in my footsteps walk? Follow yourself unswervingly, So—careful!—shall you follow me.

The Third Sloughing.

My skin bursts, breaks for fresh rebirth, And new desires come thronging: Much I've devoured, yet for more earth The serpent in me's longing. 'Twixt stone and grass I crawl once more, Hungry, by crooked ways, To eat the food I ate before, Earth-fare all serpents praise!

My Roses.

My luck's good—I'd make yours fairer, (Good luck ever needs a sharer), Will you stop and pluck my roses?

Oft mid rocks and thorns you'll linger, Hide and stoop, suck bleeding finger— Will you stop and pluck my roses?

For my good luck's a trifle vicious, Fond of teasing, tricks malicious— Will you stop and pluck my roses?

10.

The Scorner.

Many drops I waste and spill, So my scornful mood you curse: Who to brim his cup doth fill, Many drops must waste and spill— Yet he thinks the wine no worse.

11.

The Proverb Speaks.

Harsh and gentle, fine and mean, Quite rare and common, dirty and clean, The fools' and the sages' go-between: All this I will be, this have been, Dove and serpent and swine, I ween!

12.

To a Lover of Light.

That eye and sense be not fordone E'en in the shade pursue the sun!