A Shamefaced Man Makes A Bad Beggar.

The Bitter Dregs Of Fortune's Cup To Drain.

That Is The Gods' Work, Spinning Threads Of Death Through The Lives Of Mortal Men, An All To Make A Song For Those To Come.

We Mortals Hear Only The News, And Know Nothing At All.

Forgetful Youth! But Know, The Power Above With Ease Can Save Each Object Of His Love; Wide As His Will Extends His Boundless Grace.

Steel Itself Oft Lures A Man To Fight.