1776.*
-----
My only property.

I feel that I’m possess’d of nought,
Saving the free unfetterd thought

Which from my bosom seeks to flow,
And each propitious passing hour
That suffers me in all its power

A loving fate with truth to know.

1814.
-----
Admonition.

Wherefore ever ramble on?

For the Good is lying near,
Fortune learn to seize alone,

For that Fortune’s ever here.

1789.
-----
Old age.

Old age is courteous—­no one more: 
For time after time he knocks at the door,
But nobody says, “Walk in, sir, pray!”
Yet turns he not from the door away,
But lifts the latch, and enters with speed. 
And then they cry “A cool one, indeed!”

1814.
-----
Epitaph.

As a boy, reserved and naughty;
As a youth, a coxcomb and haughty;
As a man, for action inclined;
As a greybeard, fickle in mind.—­
Upon thy grave will people read: 
This was a very man, indeed!

1815.*
-----
Rules for monarchs.

If men are never their thoughts to employ,
Take care to provide them a life full of joy;
But if to some profit and use thou wouldst bend them,
Take care to shear them, and then defend them.

1815.*
-----
Paulo post futuri.

Weep ye not, ye children dear,

That as yet ye are unborn: 
For each sorrow and each tear

Makes the father’s heart to mourn.

Patient be a short time to it,

Unproduced, and known to none;
If your father cannot do it,

By your mother ’twill be done.

1784.
-----
The Fool’s epilogue.

Many good works I’ve done and ended,
Ye take the praise—­I’m not offended;
For in the world, I’ve always thought
Each thing its true position hath sought. 
When praised for foolish deeds am I,
I set off laughing heartily;
When blamed for doing something good,
I take it in an easy mood. 
If some one stronger gives me hard blows,
That it’s a jest, I feign to suppose: 
But if ’tis one that’s but my own like,
I know the way such folks to strike. 
When Fortune smiles, I merry grow,
And sing in dulci jubilo;
When sinks her wheel, and tumbles me o’er,
I think ’tis sure to rise once more.

In the sunshine of summer I ne’er lament,
Because the winter it cannot prevent;
And when the white snow-flakes fall around,
I don my skates, and am off with a bound. 
Though I dissemble as I will,
The sun for me will ne’er stand still;
The old and wonted course is run,
Until the whole of life is done;
Each day the servant like the lord,
In turns comes home, and goes abroad;
If proud or humble the line they take,
They all must eat, drink, sleep, and wake. 
So nothing ever vexes me;
Act like the fool, and wise ye’ll be!