I've Finally Tapped Into That Spirit Of

I Want To Be Alone With My Thought.

It Is Not Right To Exult Over Slain Men.

Tell Me, O Muse, Of That Ingenious Hero Who Travelled Far And Wide After He Had Sacked The Famous Town Of Troy.

Men Grow Tired Of Sleep, Love, Singing And Dancing Sooner Than Of War.

In Every Sorrowing Soul I Pour'd Delight, And Poverty Stood Smiling In My Sight.