Those who oil the wheels of eternity
Must not have sight of too many of its spokes;
‘Tis best that griefs and calamities arrive
Unheralded, that our days may be glad
And untainted by fears of things that are to come;
For he that sees the beginning of his path
Meeting inexorably with its end,
The sum of his exertions and labors come to naught,
Has not the heart to set himself to his task;
Time’s hands are best moved by the arms of the blind,
That against its will they may not mutiny.