Odes 2.10 (Creech): Rectius Vives

WIse they, that with a cautious fear
Not always thro the Ocean Steer,
Nor, whilst they think the Winds will roar,
Do thrust too near the rocky Shore:
To those that choose the golden Mean:
The Waves are smooth, the Skies serene;
They want the baseness of the Poors retreat,
And envy'd Houses of the Great:
Storms often vex the lofty Oak,
High Mountains seel the Thunder's stroak;
And lofty Towers, when Storms prevail,
Are ruin'd with a greater fall:
A Breast prepar'd in either State
Or sears or hopes a change of Fate;
'Tis Jove the same that Winter brings
And melts the Frost by pleasing Springs:
Tho Fortune now contracts her Brow,
And frowns; yet 'twill not still be so:
Apollo sometimes Mirth pursues
His Harp awakes his sleepy Muse,
Nor always bends his threatning Bow:
When Fortune sends a Stormy Wind
Then show a brave and present Mind,
And when with too indulgent Gales
She swells too much, then furl thy Sails.