The Natural Thing, My Lord, Men And

Now From The Smooth Deep Ocean-stream The Sun Began To Climb The Heavens, And With New Rays Smote The Surrounding Fields.

Who Ne'er Knew Salt, Or Heard The Billows Roar.

I Would Rather Be Tied To The Soil As A Serf... Than Be King Of All These Dead And Destroyed.

And Rest At Last Where Souls Unbodied Dwell, In Ever-flowing Meads Of Asphodel.

One Omen Is Best, To Fight In Defense Of One's Country.