Truly Upon Mortals Cometh Swift Of Foot

Human Prosperity Never Rests But Always Craves More, Till Blown Up With Pride It Totters And Falls. From The Opulent Mansions Pointed At By All Passers-by None Warns It Away, None Cries, 'let No More Riches Enter!'.

And Now It Goes As It Goes And Where It Ends Is Fate. And Neither By Singeing Flesh Nor Tipping Cups Of Wine Nor Shedding Burning Tears Can You Enchant Away The Rigid Fury.

For Know That No One Is Free, Except Zeus.

Search Well And Be Wise, Nor Believe That Self-willed Pride Will Ever Be Better Than Good Counsel.

Arrogance Is Truly The Child Of Impiety, But From Health Of Soul Comes Happiness, Dear To All, Much Prayed For.