I Have Learned To Hate All Traitors,

Hungry Wailing Standeth Not Aloof.

Pleasantest Of All Ties Is The Tie Of Host And Guest.

I Warn The Marauder Dragging Plunder, Chaotic, Rich Beyond All Rights: He'll Strike His Sails, Harried At Long Last, Stunned When The Squalls Of Torment Break His Spars To Bits.

But Still The Block Of Vengeance Firm Doth Stand, And Fate, As Swordsmith, Hammers Blow On Blow.

Of All The Gods, Death Only Craves Not Gifts: Nor Sacrifice, Nor Yet Drink-offering Poured Avails; No Altars Hath He, Nor Is Soothed By Hymns Of Praise. From Him Alone Of All The Powers Of Heaven Persuasion Holds Aloof.