In Every Sorrowing Soul I Pour'd Delight,

But You Can't Stop At One, You Wanna Drink Another Woman!

It Was Built Against The Will Of The Immortal Gods, And So It Did Not Last For Long.

Reproach Is Infinite, And Knows No End So Voluble A Weapon Is The Tongue; Wounded, We Wound; And Neither Side Can Fail For Every Man Has Equal Strength To Rail.

The Minds Of The Everlasting Gods Are Not Changed Suddenly.

There Is No Greater Glory That Can Befall A Man That What He Achieves With The Speed Of His Feet Or The Strength Of His Hands.