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Norton F. W. Hazeldine translation
Who then doth hold this secret of the way, which from this carnal house of clay to freedom makes? Or are we like the ever changing sea, impotent to change its currents or the wind? It is only a sluggard who doth question the reason of his birth; the Brave like soaring eagles rise high above the earth, They but know the path of duty, its golden way they tread, where trod the ancient fathers who dissolved this life of earth. Thus look not on high the good to find, nor search for it below; good is the whole, and death but lifts the scenes as they unfold.