Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 32

XXXII. 

Nature's designs, decrees, and will we read

In things, concerning which we're all agreed,
Which no dispute, or controversy need.
As say, your neighbour's boy hath broke a glass,
You're apt to cry, These things must-come to pass.
So if your own be broke, you ought from thence
To learn to bear it with like patience,
As if 'twere his; thence by degrees ascend:
As thus, suppose your neighbour lose a friend,
Bury his wife, or son; I know you'll cry,
'Tis not so strange a thing that mortals die.
But say the case by yours, the loss your own,
Then what a howling's there, what pitious moan.
What tears you shed? "Ah me! forlorn! undone! 
I've lost, you cry, I've lost my only son!
The innocent, sweet, beauteous youth is dead,
He's gone, and all my joys are with him fled!"
When all this while you should remember how 
Your neighbour's case, like yours, affected you;
Without a sigh, without a tear, or groan,
You bore his loss, and so should bear your own.