Often the wicked prosper, while the righteous starve; yet I would never exchange my state for theirs, my virtue for their gold. For mine endures, while riches change their owner every day.
If through your vices you afflicted are, Lay not the blame of your distress on God; You made your rulers mighty, gave them guards, So now you groan ‘neath slavery’s heavy rod.
Watch well each separate citizen, Lest having in his heart of hearts A secret spear, one still may come Saluting you with cheerful face, And utter with a double tongue The feigned good wishes of his wary mind.
