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72.A son is better, though late he be born,
And his father to death have fared;
Memory-stones seldom stand by the road
Save when kinsman honors his kin.
73.Two make a battle, the tongue slays the head;
In each furry coat a fist I look for.
74.He welcomes the night whose fare is enough,
(Short are the yards of a ship,)
Uneasy are autumn nights;
Full oft does the weather change in a week,
And more in a month's time.
75.A man knows not, if nothing he knows,
That gold oft apes begets;
One man is wealthy and one is poor,
Yet scorn for him none should know.
76.Among Fitjung's sons saw I well-stocked folds,—
Now bear they the beggar's staff;
