“Who on power sets his aim,

First must his own spirit tame;

He must shun his neck to thrust

‘Neath th’ unholy yoke of lust.

For, though India's far-off land

Bow before his wide command,

Utmost Thule homage pay—

If he cannot drive away

Haunting care and black distress,

In his power, he’s powerless.”


--Boethius, Consolation, Song V,

“Self-Mastery.”