Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 12

XII. 

As in a voyage, when you at anchor ride,

You go on shore fresh water to provide;

And perhaps gather what you chance to find,
Shell-fish, or roots of palatable kind,
Yet still you ought to fix your greatest care
Upon your ship, upon your bus'ness there:
Still thoughtful, lest perhaps the master call;
Which if he do, then you must part with all
Those darling trifles, that retard your haste,
Left, bound like sheep, you by constraint are cast
Into the hold.  Thus, in your course of life,
Suppose you a lovely son, or beauteous wife,
Instead of those less pleasing trinkets, find,
And bless your stars, and think your fortune kind;
Yet still be ready, if the master call,
To cast thy burthen down and part with all
Forsake the beauteous wife and lovely son,
Run to thy ship without reluctance run,
Nor look behind: but, if grown old and gray,
Keep always near thy ship, and never stay
To stoop  for worthless lumber on the way.
Short is the time allow'd to make thy coast,
Which must not for such tasteless joy be lost,
Thy rev'rend play-things will but ill appear:
Besides, thou'lt find they'll cost thee very dear:
'Tis well if age can its own weakness bear,
Unmann'd with dotage; when thou'rt call'd upon
How wilt thou drag the tiresome luggage on?
With tears and sighs much folly thou'lt betray,
And crawl with pain undecently away.