Be Both A Speaker Of Words And

The Life, Which Others Pay, Let Us Bestow, And Give To Fame What We To Nature Owe.

Zeus Most Glorious And Most Great, Thundercloud, Throned In The Heavens! Let Not The Sun Go Down And The Darkness Come, Until I Cast Down Headlong The Citadel Of Priam In Flames, And Burn His Gates With Blazing Fire, And Tear To Rags The Shirt Upon Hectors Breast! May Many Of His Men Fall About Him Prone In The Dust And Bite The Earth!

I Say No Wealth Is Worth My Life.

Just Are The Ways Of Heaven; From Heaven Proceed The Woes Of Man: Heaven Doom'd The Greeks To Bleed.

Now From His Breast Into The Eyes The Ache Of Longing Mounted, And He Wept At Last, His Dear Wife, Clear And Faithful, In His Arms, Longed For As The Sunwarmed Earth Is Longed For By A Swimmer Spent In Rough Water Where His Ship Went Down Under Poseidon's Blows, Gale Winds And Tons Of Sea. Few Men Can Keep Alive Through A Big Serf To Crawl, Clotted With Brine, On Kindly Beaches In Joy, In Joy, Knowing The Abyss Behind: And So She Too Rejoiced, Her Gaze Upon Her Husband, Her White Arms Round Him Pressed As Though Forever.