OBSERVATIONS ON THE LIFE OF EPICTETUS by ELIZABETH TIPPER

Poor @3Epictetus@1, born the Slave of @3Fate@1,
Unparallel'd, for abject mean Estate,
Rapt in a Cloud of unkind @3Fortune@1's Jars,
And @3Destiny@1 that seem'd to have no @3Stars@1:
@3Dark@1 as the @3Eye@1 of @3Chance@1, which some call @3blind@1,
@3Obscure@1 from @3Light@1 in all things but his @3Mind@1,
Which was enricht with @3Faculties@1 could reach
The rarest things @3Philosophy@1 did teach;
Yet by @3Laborious Burthens@1 bath'd in @3Sweats@1,
He every Day must @3Earn@1 the @3Bread@1 he @3eats;@1
But he the @3Envy@1 of his @3Fate@1 beguiles,
And for her @3rigorous Frowns@1 gives @3pleasing Smiles@1,
@3Contentment@1 plain'd and smooth'd, each step was @3rough@1
And in his @3Wants@1 till made him rich enough,
Set him above the @3Top@1 of @3Fame's Renown@1,
And higher than the @3Envy@1 of a @3Crown@1,
More happy than the @3Miser@1, whose @3proud Share@1
Of @3Wealth@1 is equall'd with a @3Load@1 of @3Care@1:
Thus liv'd he @3free, brisk, satisfi'd@1 and @3gay@1,
As if, for @3Earth@1, he scorn'd to throw away
A single @3Wish@1; and, as he studied said,
@3My thoughts, just now my present State have laid
In view, and, as I look, this I behold,
In my condition I am@1 Poor @3and@1 Old,
@3And@1 Happy @3therefore, knowing@1 'tis @3the best@1,
@3Because the@1 GODS @3have chose@1 it @3from the rest.
To give@1 it @3me; their@1 Wisdom @3cannot err,
And I the@1 Gift @3before all things preferr.
O wondrous Vertue@1 in a @3Heathen@1 Man!
With what @3Impatience@1, with what @3Face@1 then can
A @3Christian murmur, sorrow@1 or @3repine@1,
That reads this vast @3Humility@1 of thine?
But who, alas! retains a @3peaceful Thought@1,
More than by @3Heaven's Diviner Hand@1 is wrought?
@3Heaven@1 is the @3Giver@1 and @3Preserver@1 too
Of every @3spark@1 of @3good@1 we @3think@1 or @3do@1.

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