Edition prepared from "Festive Harmony", London, 1804. By then, this glee was almost thirty years old.

Lyrics: Horace trans Thomas Creech

Wise they, that with a cautious fear
Not always through the ocean steer,
Nor, whilst they think the winds will roar,
Do thrust too near the rocky shore:
To those that choose the golden mean,
The waves are smooth the skies serene;
A breast prepared for either state
Or fears or hopes a change of fate.
When fortune sends a stormy wind,
Then shew a firm and constant mind;
And when with too indulgent gales
She swells too much, then furl thy sails.