James Vila Blake, Sonnets from Marcus Aurelius 25

25. 

τὸ δὲ κακόν σου καὶ τὸ βλαβερὸν ἐνταῦθα πᾶσαν τὴν ὑπόστασιν ἔχει. τί δὲ καινὸν ἢ ξένον γέγονεν, εἰ ὁ ἀπαίδευτος τὰ τοῦ ἀπαιδεύτου πράσσει; ὅρα μὴ σεαυτῷ μᾶλλον ἐγκαλεῖν ὀφείλῃς, ὅτι οὐ προσεδόκησας τοῦτον τοῦτο ἁμαρτήσεσθαι: σὺ γὰρ καὶ ἀφορμὰς ἐκ τοῦ λόγου εἶχες πρὸς τὸ ἐνθυμηθῆναι ὅτι εἰκός ἐστι τοῦτον τοῦτο ἁμαρτήσεσθαι, καὶ ὅμως ἐπιλαθόμενος θαυμάζεις εἰ ἡμάρτηκε.

μάλιστα δέ, ὅταν ὡς ἀπίστῳ ἢ ἀχαρίστῳ μέμφῃ, εἰς σεαυτὸν ἐπιστρέφου: προδήλως γὰρ σὸν τὸ ἁμάρτημα, εἴτε περὶ τοῦ τοιαύτην τὴν διάθεσιν ἔχοντος ἐπίστευσας ὅτι τὴν πίστιν φυλάξει, εἴτε τὴν χάριν διδοὺς μὴ καταληκτικῶς ἔδωκας μηδὲ ὥστε ἐξ αὐτῆς τῆς πράξεως εὐθὺς ἀπειληφέναι πάντα τὸν καρπόν. 

τί γὰρ πλέον θέλεις εὖ ποιήσας ἄνθρωπον; οὐκ ἀρκεῖ τοῦτο, ὅτι κατὰ φύσιν τὴν σήν τι ἔπραξας, ἀλλὰ τούτου μισθὸν ζητεῖς;

What harm is it, or how is it strange, if the boorish man acts like a boor? Consider whether you ought not to blame yourself rather, because you have not expected such a man to do ill. For from your reason you might have a start for concluding it to be likely that this man would do this ill. Yet still forgetting all, you wonder at his doing the evil. 

Therefore first and foremost, when you complain of any one as faithless and ungrateful, turn about your attention to yourself. For plainly enough the fault is your own, if you trusted any one of such a character, thinking he would keep faith; or if in doing a kindness, you did it not absolutely and as having received straight away the full fruit of the deed in the deed itself. For having done well by a man, what more would you have? Is not this enough, that you have behaved according to your nature, but you must seek a kind of wages for this? 

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 9.42 

25. 

Thus have I thought when some man thankless proved: 

He promised false? Worse you, being self-deceived. 

That such a man had differently moved  

'Twas you that with a muzzy head conceived. 

Since the pied world must random rascals hold, 

Have patience with what you nor none can miss; 

Ask not th’ impossible, and plain behold 

That meekness was conferred on thee for this. 

Now sooth you are rebuked by all the flowers, 

Forests, or streams, or air, or anything; 

For what! Forthputting God-imparted powers, 

Wilt groan that these no other guerdon bring? 

Sad man, contented not with first and best, 

Moaning for second, tenth, or foolishest.