Classic Poem

III 1

The prudent Hind intent on Gain
Must clear the Ground to sow the Grain,
And Ceres richest gifts abound
Where late the rankest Weeds were found;
To him whom painful Tastes annoy
Sweet honey yields a double Joy;
The Tempest gives the Calm delight,
The Morning owes her Charms to night;
And thus the Mind tormented long
With wild Vicissitudes of Wrong,
Contemns at length the treachrous toys
And real Happiness enjoys.