A God Implants In Mortal Guilt Whenever

The Field Of Doom Bears Death As Its Harvest.

For Know That No One Is Free, Except Zeus.

O Death The Healer, Scorn Thou Not, I Pray, To Come To Me: Of Cureless Ills Thou Art The One Physician. Pain Lays Not Its Touch Upon A Corpse.

Joy Steals Upon Me, Such Joy As Calls Forth Tears.

Who, Except The Gods, Can Live Time Through Forever Without Any Pain?