Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own; Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a mother's mind, And no unworthy aim, The homely nurse doth all she can To make her foster child, her inmate man, Forget the glories he hath known And that imperial palace whence he came.
Don't get seduced by the next shiny thing, because you'll get caught up chasing shiny things and that will keep you from addressing what you really need to accomplish.