Surely great loving-kindness yet may go / With a little gift: all’s dear that comes from friends.

Now begins a torrent of words and a trickling of sense.

The frog’s life is most jolly, my lads; he has no care Who shall fill up his cup; for he has drink enough to spare.

With a little gift; and precious are all things that come from friends.

Cicala to cicala is dear, and ant to ant, And kestrels dear to kestrels, but to me the Muse and song.

Our concern be peace of mind: some old crone let us seek, To spit on us for luck and keep unlovely things afar.

Sweet is the whispering music of yonder pine that sings.