Though the master-mind of the royal sage feast on the mysteries of wisdom, Yet ignorance of self shall bow down the spirit of a Solomon to idols; The storm of temptation, sweeping by, shall snap that oak like a reed, And the proud luxuriance of its tufted crown drag it the sooner to the dust. Youth, confident in self, tampereth with dangerous dalliance, Till the vice his heart once hated hath locked him in her foul embrace: Manhood, through zeal of doing good, seeketh high place for its occasions, Unwitting that the bleak mountain-air will nip the tender budding of his motives: Or painfully, for love of truth, he climbeth the ladder of science, Till pride of intellect heating his heart, warpeth it aside to delusion: The maiden, to give shadow to her fairness, plaiteth her raven hair, Heedlessly weaving for her soul the silken net of vanity: The grey-beard looketh on his gold, till he loveth its yellow smile, Unconscious of the bright decoy which is luring his heart unto avarice: Wrath avoideth no quarrel, jealousy counteth its suspicions, Pining envy gazeth still, and melancholy seeketh solitude, The sensitive broodeth on his slights, the fearful poreth over horrors, The train of wantonness is fired, the nerves of indecision are unstrung; Each special proneness unto harm is pampered by ignorant indulgence, And the man, for want of warning, yieldeth to the apt temptation. A smith at the loom, and a weaver at the forge, were but sorry craftsmen; And a ship that saileth on every wind never shall reach her port: Yet there be thousands among men who heed not the leaning of their talents, But cutting against the grain, toil on to no good end; And the light of a thoughtful spirit is quenched beneath the bushel of commerce, While meaner plodding minds are driven up the mountain of philosophy: The cedar withereth on a wall, while the house-leek is fattening in a hot-bed, And the dock with its rank leaves hideth the sun from violets. To everything a fitting place, a proper honourable use; The humblest measure of mind is bright in its humble sphere: The glow-worm, creeping in the hedge, lighteth her evening torch, And her far-off mate, on gossamer sail, steereth his course by that star: But ignorance mocketh at proprieties, bringing out the glow-worm at noon; And setteth the faults of mediocrity in the full blaze of wisdom. Ravens croaking in darkness, and a skylark trilling to the sun, The voice of a screech-owl from a ruin, and the blackbird's whistle in a wood, A cushion-footed camel for the sands, and a swift rein-deer for the snows, A naked skin for Ethiopia, and rich soft furs for the Pole: In all things is there a fitness: discord with discord hath its music; And the harmony of nature is preserved by each one knowing his place.