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If another thou hast whom thou hardly wilt trust, Yet good from him wouldst get, Thou shalt speak him fair, but falsely think, And fraud with falsehood requite.

So is it with him whom thou hardly wilt trust, And whose mind thou mayst not know; Laugh with him mayst thou, but speak not thy mind, Like gifts to his shalt thou give.

Young was I once, and wandered alone, And nought of the road I knew; Rich did I feel when a comrade I found, For man is man's delight.

The lives of the brave and noble are best, Sorrows they seldom feed; But the coward fear of all things feels, And not gladly the niggard gives.

My garments once in a field I gave To a pair of carven poles; Heroes they seemed when clothes they had, But the naked man is nought.

On the hillside drear the fir-tree dies, All bootless its needles and bark; It is like a man whom no one loves,— Why should his life be long?