Men Hate The Haughty Of Heart Who

Surely Again, To Heal Men's Wounds By Music's Spell.

There Is No Harbor Of Peace From The Changing Waves Of Joy And Despair.

It Is Said That Gifts Persuade Even The Gods.

O Lady, Nobility Is Thine, And Thy Form Is The Reflection Of Thy Nature!

Who Then Will Dare To Say I'm Weak Or Timid? No, They'll Say I'm Loyal As A Friend, Ruthless As A Foe, So Much Like A Hero Destined For Glory.