Classic Poem

Of all the pains of life there's nothing worse
Than to hold freedom at another's will;
Therefore the wise before he shapes his course
Bethinks him of what rocks the way may fill.
He who depends is his not in his own ward;
Howe'er he rage he must obey at length
Because when once ensnared the prison'd bird,
By constant struggling but exhausts its strength.
Then guilty endure your servile state,
If you would please your Lord, and turn your back
Upon all thoughts of Freedom soon or late.
For you who serve, sirs, this is the right track;
Remember the wise saw of ancient date:
" The willing knave rich guerdon shall not lack. "