"Take office high or low as days afford, If one there be that could with thee accord;
Like ancient kings austere who sought their mate, Finding the one who should fulfill their fate.
Now if thy heart doth cherish grace within, What need is there to choose a go-between?
A convict toiled on rocks to expiate, His crime; his sovereign gave him great estate.
A butcher with his knife made roundelay; His king chanced there and happy proved the day.
A prince who heard a cowherd chanting late, Raised him to be a councillor of state.
Before old age o'ertake thee on thy way, Life still is young; to profit turn thy day.
Spring is but brief, when cuckoos start to sing, And flowers will fade that once did spread and spring."
On high my jasper pendent proudly gleamed, Hid by the crowd with leaves that thickly teemed;
Untiring they relentless means employed; I feared it would through envy be destroyed.
This gaudy age so fickle proved its will, That to what purpose did I linger still?
E'en orchids changed, their fragrance quickly lost, And midst the weeds angelicas were tossed.
How could these herbs, so fair in former day, Their hue have changed, and turned to mugworts grey?
The reason for their fall, not far to seek, Was that to tend their grace their will proved weak.