Face thy foe in the field, and perchance thou wilt meet thy master, For the sword is chained to his wrist, and his armour buckled for the battle; But find him when he looketh not for thee, aim between the joints of his harness, And the crest of his pride will be humbled, his cruelty will bite the dust. Beard not a lion in his den, but fashion the secret pitfall; So shall thou conquer the strong, thyself triumphing in weakness. The hurricane rageth fiercely, and the promontory standeth in its might, Breasting the artillery of heaven, as darts glance from the crocodile: But the small continual creeping of the silent footsteps of the sea Mineth the wall of adamant, and stealthily compasseth its ruin. The weakness of accident is strong, where the strength of design is weak: And a casual analogy convinceth, when a mind beareth not argument. Will not a man listen? be silent; and prove thy maxim by example: Never fear, thou losest not thy hold, though thy mouth doth not render a reason. Contend not in wisdom with a fool, for thy sense maketh much of his conceit; And some errors never would have thriven, had it not been for learned refutation: Yea, much evil hath been caused by an honest wrestler for truth, And much of unconscious good, by the man that hated wisdom: For the intellect judgeth closely, and if thou overstep thy argument, Or seem not consistent with thyself, or fail in thy direct purpose, The mind that went along with thee, shall stop and return without thee, And thou shalt have raised a foe, where thou mightest have won a friend. Hints, shrewdly strown, mightily disturb the spirit, Where a bare-faced accusation would be too ridiculous for calumny: The sly suggestion toucheth nerves, and nerves contract the fronds, And the sensitive mimosa of affection trembleth to its root; And friendships, the growth of half a century, those oaks that laugh at storms, Have been cankered in a night by a worm, even as the prophet's gourd. Hast thou loved, and not known jealousy? for a sidelong look Can please or pain thy heart more than the multitude of proofs: Hast thou hated, and not learned that thy silent scorn Doth deeper aggravate thy foe than loud-cursing malice?-- A wise man prevaileth in power, for he screeneth his battering engine, But a fool tilteth headlong, and his adversary is aware.