Chapter XXXIV

O Fortuna, viris invida fortibus

Quam non aqua bonis praemia dividis.

SENECA.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

And as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue,

Pants to the place from whence at first he flew.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Here, to the houseless child of want,

My door is open still.

GOLDSM