Be It Mine To Draw From Wisdom's

May Dawn, As The Proverb Goes, Bring Happy Tidings Coming From Her Mother Night.

A Great Ox Stands On My Tongue.

You Have Been Trapped In The Inescapable Net Of Ruin By Your Own Want Of Sense.

For The Lips Of Zeus Do Not Know How To Lie, But Bring To Fulfilment Every Word.

Justice Shines In Very Smoky Homes, And Honors The Righteous; But The Gold-spangled Mansions Where The Hands Are Unclean She Leaves With Eyes Averted.