She might converse with angels
as with a fool or clown
and might well chat with blackguards
but turns their mischief down.
And she might now a dropp taste
but knows what a cork is for
for every dropp admitted
resisted a score score.
Wise men entertain her
and though she owns no home
is welcome at their tables
whereever she may roam.
Her eldest child is winter-born
his name is Industry
Her youngest, May-born Mercy mild,
who speaks best with her eyes.
Time but improves her-
she is easlier lovlier now
than when I introduced her
some twenty years ago.
Oh, I'm a rogue and a scoundrel
and a pleasure-driven fool
but I love Moderation
she is my clearest jewel!
I love you, Moderation
and mean to love you more
and if it's blessed I come to be
it's you I'll thank it for.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem