A Great Ox Stands On My Tongue.

For Wherein Is Life Sweet To Him Who Suffers Grief?

There Is A Time When Fear Is Good And Ought To Remain Seated As A Guardian Of The Heart.

For In The Voyage Of The Heart, There Is A Freight Of Hatred, And The Wind Of Wrath Blows Shrill.

Justice, Voiceless, Unseen, Seeth Thee When Thou Sleepest And When Thou Goest Forth And When Thou Liest Down. Continually Doth She Attend Thee, Now Aslant Thy Course, Now At A Later Time. These Lines Are From A Section Of Doubtful Or Spurious Fragments.

Pain Lays Not Its Touch Upon A Corpse.