The very earth, that in firm steadfastness doth sit, When subject to an earthquake, shakes as in a fit. How many regions in the world, encroaching sands Have changed from gardens into bare and sterile lands. 400 The air, that with its breezes gives new life to all, When Providence ordains, brings pestilence and thrall. Sweet water’s running stream, a very source of life, In pond confined, turns fetid, black, and poison-rife. The fire, so arrogant when fed with breezes long, With one puff is extinguished by a breath too strong. The sea, now boisterous with waves and swelling tide, At times is like a mirror, shrinking from land’s side. The sky, revolving night and day, is never still; The seven planets like, it works its Maker’s will. 405 Those planets, too, in apogee and perigee,--what not,— Auspicious, inauspicious are in several lot. Thyself consider;--little part, of universals mixed;— And thou’lt divine the state of all extended, fixed. Since universals are by no means free from toil, How should a petty part escape from trouble’s moil? A part, too, that’s compound of every opposite,— Of fire, and air, and water; adding earth its mite. If sheep from wolf should flee, there’s really wonder none; To see them herd together ’d ’stonish every one. 410 Life springs from concord of th’ ingredient opposites. And death results when discord their pact disunites. God’s mercy hath appointed every lion’s mate; And unto each wild ass a fit associate. But since the world in trouble prison-like offends, What wonder that all’s transient,--that all suffering ends?” ’Twas thus the hare the lion tricked with specious lies; And added: “Hence the reason why I cannot rise.” The lion answered: “I see naught to cause thy fear. Point out to me the object seems to thee so drear.” 415 The hare then: “In this well thy foe takes his repose. His stronghold is this pit, where he’s secure from woes. A wise man hides himself at bottom of a well; For ’tis in solitude heart’s choicest raptures dwell. Seclusion’s gloom is easier borne than wrongs from men. Who craves a victor’s mercy, saves his life just then.” The lion muttered: “Onward come. My arm is strong. Go look. At home is he? He’ll not live long.” The hare: “Alas! Already I’ve endured his gaze. Take me unto thy breast. My mind is all amaze. 420 From off thy back, most potent lord and prince, I’ll look down in the well. I’ll neither blink nor wince.”