almost that he seeth: so unto him, whom the dogmata have
once bitten, or in whom true knowledge hath made an impression,
everything almost that he sees or reads be it never so short
or ordinary, doth afford a good memento; to put him out
of all grief and fear, as that of the poet, 'The winds blow
upon the trees, and their leaves fall upon the ground.
Then do the trees begin to bud again, and by the spring-time
they put forth new branches. So is the generation of men;
some come into the world, and others go out of it.'
Of these leaves then thy children are. And they also that
applaud thee so gravely, or, that applaud thy speeches,
with that their usual acclamation, axiopistwz, O wisely
spoken I and speak well of thee, as on the other side,
they that stick not to curse thee, they that privately and
secretly dispraise and deride thee, they also are but leaves.
And they also that shall follow, in whose memories the names of men
famous after death, is preserved, they are but leaves neither.
For even so is it of all these worldly things.
Their spring comes, and they are put forth. Then blows the wind,
and they go down. And then in lieu of them grow others out
of the wood or common matter of all things, like unto them.
But, to endure but for a while, is common unto all.
Why then shouldest thou so earnestly either seek after these things,
or fly from them, as though they should endure for ever?
Yet a little while, and thine eyes will be closed up,
and for him that carries thee to thy grave shall another mourn
within a while after.