A Glorious Death Is His, Who For

And Heaven, That Every Virtue Bears In Mind, E'en To The Ashes Of The Just Is Kind.

Blame The Guy Who Doesn't Speak Engish.

Let Him Submit To Me! Only The God Of Death Is So Relentless, Death Submits To No One—so Mortals Hate Him Most Of All The Gods. Let Him Bow Down To Me! I Am The Greater King, I Am The Elder-born, I Claim—the Greater Man.

On These Sands And In The Clefts Of The Rocks, In The Depths Of The Sea, In The Creaking Of The Pines, You'll Spy Secret Footprints And Catch Far-off Voices From The Homecoming Celebration. This Land Still Longs For Odysseus.

It Is The Bold Man Who Every Time Does Best, At Home Or Abroad.