is excited
Then by the wine, which lets him not heed the language of others;
None but himself does he see and feel.  But now is come evening,
Talk upon various subjects has passed between him and his neighbors. 
Gentle, he is; I am sure now his little excitement is over,
And he can feel how unjust his passion has made him to others. 
Come, let us venture at once:  success is alone to the valiant! 
Further we need the friends, still sitting together there with him,;
And in especial the worthy pastor will give us assistance.”

Thus she hastily spoke, and up from the stone then arising,
Drew from his seat her son, who willingly followed.  In silence
Both descended the hill, their important purpose revolving.

POLYHYMNIA

THE CITIZEN OF THE WORLD

Here the three men, however, still sat conversing together,
With mine host of the Lion, the village doctor, and pastor;
And their talk was still on the same unvarying subject,
Turning it this way and that, and viewing from every direction. 
But with his sober judgment the excellent pastor made answer: 
“Here will I not contradict you.  I know that man should be always
Striving for that which is better; indeed, as we see, he is reaching
Always after the higher, at least some novelty craving. 
But be careful ye go not too far, for with this disposition
Nature has given us pleasure in holding to what is familiar;
Taught us in that to delight to which we have long been accustomed. 
Every condition is good that is founded on reason and nature. 
Many are man’s desires, yet little it is that he needeth;
Seeing the days are short and mortal destiny bounded. 
Ne’er would I censure the man whom a restless activity urges,
Bold and industrious, over all pathways of land and of ocean,
Ever untiring to roam; who takes delight in the riches,
Heaping in generous abundance about himself and his children. 
Yet not unprized by me is the quiet citizen also,
Making the noiseless round of his own inherited acres,
Tilling the ground as the ever-returning seasons command him. 
Not with every year is the soil transfigured about him;
Not in haste does the tree stretch forth, as soon as ’tis planted,
Full-grown arms towards heaven and decked with plenteous blossoms. 
No:  man has need of patience, and needful to him are also
Calmness and clearness of mind, and a pure and right understanding. 
Few are the seeds he intrusts to earth’s all-nourishing bosom;
Few are the creatures he knows how to raise and bring to perfection. 
Centred are all his thoughts alone on that which is useful. 
Happy to whom by nature a mind of such temper is given,
For he supports us all!  And hail, to the man whose abode is
Where in a town the country pursuits with the city are blended. 
On him lies not the pressure that painfully hampers