Tost in the hollow keel: a portion send; Thy larger substance let the shore defend. Wretched the losses of the ocean fall, When on a fragile plank embark’d thy all: And wretched when thy sheaves o’erload the wain, And the crash’d axle spoils the scatter’d grain. The golden mean of conduct should confine Our every aim; be moderation thine. Take to thy house a woman for thy bride When in the ripeness of thy manhood’s pride: Thrice ten thy sum of years; the nuptial prime; Nor fall far short, nor far exceed the time. Four years the ripening virgin should consume, [127]And wed the fifth of her expanded bloom. A virgin choose: and mould her manners chaste: Chief be some neighbouring maid by thee embraced: Look circumspect and long: lest thou be found The merry mock of all the dwellers round. No better lot has Providence assign’d Than a fair woman with a virtuous mind: Nor can a worse befall, then when thy fate Allots a worthless, feast-contriving mate: She, with no torch of mere material flame, Shall burn to tinder thy care-wasted frame: [128]Shall send a fire thy vigorous bones within, And age unripe in bloom of years begin. Th’ unsleeping vengeance heed of heaven on high.— None as a friend should with a brother vie: But if like him thou hold another dear, Let no offences on thy side appear: [129]Nor lie with idle tongue: if he begin Offence of word and deed, [130]chastise his sin Once for each act and word; but if he grieve, And make atonement, straight his love receive: Wretched! his friends who changes to and fro! Let not thy face thy mind’s deep secrets show. Be not the host of many nor of none: The good revile not, and the wicked shun. [131]Rebuke not want, that wastes the spirit dry; It is the gift of blessed gods on high. [132]Lo! the best treasure is a frugal tongue: The lips of moderate speech with grace are hung: The evil-speaker shall perpetual fear Return of evil ringing in his ear. [133]When many guests combine in common fare Be not morose nor grudge thy liberal share: When all contributing the feast unite, Great is the pleasure and the cost is light. When the libation of the morn demands The sable wine, forbear with unwash’d hands To lift the cup: with ear averted Jove Shall spurn thy prayer, and every god above. Forbear to let your water flow away Turn’d upright tow’rds the sun’s all-seeing ray: E’en when his splendour sets, till morn has glow’d Take heed; nor sprinkle, as you walk, the road, Nor the road-side; nor bare affront the sight; For there are gods who watch and guard the night. The holy man discreet sits decently, And to some sheep-fold’s fenced wall draws nigh. From rites of love unclean the hearth forbear, Nor sit beside ungirt, for household gods are there.