Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/504

406

Some pleasure is there found even in words,

When with them comes forgetfulness of ills.

Though I be old, yet with advance of age

Comes reason's growth, and skill to counsel well.

There stretcheth by the sea

A fair Eubœan shore, and o'er it creeps

The vine of Bacchos, each day's growth complete.

In morning brightness all the land is green

With tendrils fair and spreading. Noontide comes,

And then the unripe cluster forms apace:

The day declines, and purple grow the grapes;

At eve the whole bright vintage is brought in,

And the mixed wine poured out.

I own it true. Right well the proverb runs,

That smallest things make known a man's true bent.

Wherefore conceal thou nothing. Time that sees

And heareth all things bringeth all to light.

No good e'er comes of leisure purposeless;

And Heaven ne'er helps the men who will not act.

'Tis only in God's garden men may reap

True joy and blessing.

Chance never helps the men who do not work.

He who neglects the Muses in his youth

Has wasted all the past, and lost true life

For all the future.