(25)

The splendour of a monarch great Is worthless for the free and bold: Where lies the grandeur of a king, Whose riches rest on borrowed gold?

You pin your faith on idols vain And turn your back on Mighty God: If this is not unbelief and sin, What else is unbelief and fraud?

Luck favours the fool and the mean, And exalts and lifts to the skies Only those who are base and low And know not how to patronize.

One look from the eyes of the Fair Can make a conquest of the heart: There is no charm in the fair sweet, If it lacks this alluring art.

I am a target for the hate Of the mighty rich and the great, As I know the end of Caesars great And know the freaks of luck or fate.

To be a person great and strong Is the end and aim of all; But that rank is not real and true That is attained by the ego’s fall.

My bold and simple mode of life Has captured each and every heart; Though my numbers are lame and dull And lay no claim to poet’s art.