Chorus
[1001]
Truly blooming health does not rest content within its due bounds; for disease ever presses close against it, its neighbor with a common wall.1
[1005]
So human fortune, when holding onward in straight course strikes upon a hidden reef. And yet, if with a well-measured throw, caution heaves overboard
[1010]
a portion of the gathered wealth, the whole house, with woe overladen, does not founder nor engulf the hull.2Truly the generous gift from Zeus,
[1015]
rich and derived from yearly furrows, makes an end of the plague of famine.