Truly Even He Errs That Is Wiser

What Good Is It To Live A Life That Brings Pains?

Justice Shines In Very Smoky Homes, And Honors The Righteous; But The Gold-spangled Mansions Where The Hands Are Unclean She Leaves With Eyes Averted.

The Air Is Zeus, Zeus Earth, And Zeus The Heaven, Zeus All That Is, And What Transcends Them All.

Hungry Wailing Standeth Not Aloof.

Watchful Are The Gods Of All Hands With Slaughter Stained. The Black Furies Wait, And When A Man Has Grown By Luck, Not Justice, Great, With Sudden Overturn Of Chance They Wear Him To A Shade, And, Cast Down To Perdition, Who Shall Save Him?