OLD DUTCH POETRY.

MIDDELMAAT.

Bemin de gulden middelmaat,
En zet ter zy den hoofschen staat!
De stormen treffen 't steil gebergt,
En wat er trotsch den Hemel tergt.

Wat hoog is, lydt te grooten last,
Waar 't rysje buigt, daar scheurt de mast;
De bliksem tast paleizen aan,
En laat de slechte hutten staan.

Wie 't zeiltje hyscht tot in den top,
En zet breęfok en blinden op,
En dan op storm noch buyen past,
Die wordt wel onvoorziens verrast.

Dus houd u matig onder't land,
En leg by tyds af 't staande want:
't Is beter, dat me aan 't roeyen slaat,
Eer schip en man te gronde gaat.

[Early 17th Century.]                  DIRK PIETERSZ, Pers.

THE GOLDEN MEAN.

Desire the safe and golden mean,
Avoid the summit's tempting sheen;
Storms strike the mountain's bristling side,
And Heaven ill-brooks assuming pride.

Greatness its weighty burden takes;
Where the osier bends the tall masts breaks;
Lightning attacks the palace grand
And lets the humble cottage stand.

Who hoists his maintop gallant sail,
Cross-jack and sprit sail, 'gainst the gale,
And then, defiant, drops his cares,
Is often taken unawares.

Then keep your middle course on land
And on the sea your ropes in hand;
Rather with modest oars be toss'd
Than ship and man be sunk and lost.

R.G.A.

    

08/14/99