Toil Is The Lot Of All, And

Ajax The Great Himself A Host.

Servants, When Their Lords No Longer Sway, Their Minds No More To Righteous Courses Bend.

But He Whose Inborn Worth His Acts Commend, Of Gentle Soul, To Human Race A Friend.

It Behooves A Father To Be Blameless If He Expects His Child To Be.

Wine Sets Even A Thoughtful Man To Singing, Or Sets Him Into Softly Laughing, Sets Him To Dancing. Sometimes It Tosses Out A Word That Was Better Unspoken.