Part 2 / Book 3 — BOOK III.—HEBREW MELODIES
Edgar Alfred Bowring translation
O let the days of thy life pass not Without tasting life’s blisses; And if thou’rt shelter’d from the shot, Let it fly, for it misses. If fortune should ever be passing thy way, To grasp her, forth sally; Don’t build on the summit thy cottage, I pray, But down in the valley.