Great Epictetus, pardon if we praise! 'Tis not thy character to raise:
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Respecting man, things are divided thus:
Some do not, and some do belong to us.
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Those actions which are purely ours are free
By nature such, as cannot hinder'd be,
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If then thou shouldst suppose those thing are free,
Whose nature is condemn'd to slavery;
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If then thou dost desire such things as these,
If thou wouldst tread these flow'ry ways of peace,
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When Fancy then with her black train appears,
Of difficulties, dangers, hardships, fears,
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With our aversions and desires doth rise
A smiling twin-born hope, whose flatteries
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Therefore be sure that thy aversion fall
Only on things which thou thy own may'st call,
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In things that charm the soul, which love incite,
By nature's force, use, profit, or delight.
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In ev'ry thing thou undertak'st, 'tis fit
Thou in true judgement's scales examine it;
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Unjustly men of nature's laws complain,
As cause of all their misery and pain.
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Be not transported with too great a sense
Of any outward object's excellence;
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As in a voyage, when you at anchor ride,
You go on shore fresh water to provide;
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Wish not that things, not in your pow'r, may run
As you would have them; wish them as they're done;
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In ev'ry thing that happens search you mind
And try what force, what faculties you find
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With men 'tis usual, when depriv'd of ought
Which with much pleasure entertain'd the thought,
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You would be wise, I'll teach you if you please,
Withdraw you mind from such wild thoughts as these
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Would you be wise? Ne'er take it ill you're thought
A fool, because you tamely set at naught
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If thou desir'st thy children, friends or wife
Should never die, but share immortal life
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Him, and him only, we may justly call
The pow'rful lord, the sovereign of all;
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With the same manners, which, when you're a guest
You use at some rich neighbour's sumptuous feast,
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When you see any one with tears bemoan
The loss of goods or absence of a son,
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While on this busy stage, the world you stay,
You're, as it were the actor of a play;
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The direful raven's, or the night-owl's voice,
Frightens the neighbourhood with boding noise;
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If you would be invincible, you may;
I'll shew you a certain and ready way.
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When any man of greater pow'r you see
Invested with the robes of dignity,
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Not he that beats thee, or with sland'rous tongue
Gives thee ill language, doth thee any wrong;
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Let death, let banishment, and ev'ry ill,
Which mortals thoughts with apprehension fill,
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Wisdom, you say, is what you must desire,
The only charming blessing you admire,
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If to please others, studying to be dear
In their kind thoughts, you move beyond your sphere
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