by Luis Vaz de Camoes
Never did love his boldness hurtful find;
Fortune hath ever favours for the bold;
For cowardice, that shivers in the cold,
Hangs like a stone on freedom of the mind.
Who dares the Firmament sublime ascend,
Meets there a star, whereby his course is told;
The good mere fancy in its range doth hold
Illusive is, soon scattered by the wind.
A path for fortune should be opened free;
To none, without himself, will greatness fall;
Chance moving only in first steps appears.
To dare is valour, madness 'twill not be;
He to whom fortune shows thee, loses all,
If, coward like, he doth not scorn his fears.
Last updated June 21, 2015